


Hook's Long Game

by Reginastrix



Category: Peter Pan (2003)
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Deviates From Canon, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Food Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mindfuck, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Pirates, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Slavery, Sexual Violence, Stockholm Syndrome, minor original male character - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 10:32:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 38,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3725512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reginastrix/pseuds/Reginastrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mrs Darling goes in search of her lost children, or so she thinks. My favorite pirate enjoys what he finds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Journey

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter is quite modest, but then the story heads into Explicit territory. This started out as a tongue-in-cheek piece of bodice-ripping porn, but has wandered into darker territory with the addition of more chapters. It is not meant to be anything grander than that. I own none of these characters and make not a cent from this. This has no socially redeeming value and neither do I. The plot developed and just became more twisted as it went along.  
> It is getting darker as it develops... my beloved Captain is just *not* a nice man!

Tink had grown tired of watching Peter frolic with Wendy. She knew Wendy had come from that house far away and she wished there would be some way to return her. She knew Wendy would not go with her, but she had heard Hook ask Wendy if she remembered her mother. “Perhaps this mother would want Wendy,” Tink thought. A conversation had ensued, information exchanged, and a plan made although it was not the first time that such a plan had been agreed on. Pan had banished her, so Tink knew she wouldn’t be missed. She’d made that journey a dozen times or more and knew the way clearly. The night sky twinkled but she was not distracted from her mission. Tink saw the dozing woman thru the open window. She entered and yanked on the woman’s hair to wake her up.  
Mrs. Darling awoke with a shriek. She was alone in the house save for Nana. Her beloved George was supposed to take her to the opera this night and she had prepared herself, but there had been a mishap at the bank and he was not going to be home in time. Mrs. Darling shook her head in disbelief as the tiny sprite bobbed up and down in front of her, jabbering in some incomprehensible way. Finally, with sign language, a very frustrated Tinkerbell got Mrs. Darling to understand that the children’s whereabouts were known and that she could go to them. Tink shook herself over the joyful woman, sprinkling fairy dust as she moved, and Mrs Darling slowly began rising into the air. Grabbing the woman’s pinkie, Tink guided her out the window.  
The island came into view quickly under Tink’s escort and Mrs. Darling admired the beautiful colors of the nearing jungle. She was so entranced and amazed by it all that it was only as they were slowing down, that she noticed out on the water, a pirate ship. Fear ran through her, for she had listened many nights to her daughter’s stories. She found herself gliding down with the fairy into the lush jungle. Tink let go and headed off quickly towards the thimbleful of rum that awaited her.  
Mrs. Darling landed fairly well on a large soft bed of moss. She had stumbled slightly as she touched down and was on her hands and knees, startled but unhurt. She noted that the sun was just starting to set. It was definitely getting cooler. There she was, in her most lovely pale pink silk ballgown which clung to her exquisite form and showed off her shoulders, arms and a fair amount of her bosom, in a jungle unlike anything she’d ever seen in London. She knew she had to find her boys and Wendy and she was certain they were in the area. She was starting to get up but before she could stand and call for her children, she heard a man’s voice muttering behind her. She stopped and looked over her shoulder to find herself staring at two pirates. The older one held a sword. The other, dressed most elegantly, entirely in black, had his jacket draped over his right arm. He was obviously in charge; he was dressed so much better than the other pirate.  
“Madam, may I be of assistance in helping you rise? You appear to have lost your footing on this uneven ground. This island can be treacherous for those who do not know it.” His accent was perfectly upper-class, the same that she had heard all her life within her family. Although he appeared to be a pirate at first glance, she thought upon hearing him speak that perhaps she had misjudged him.  
“Yes sir. Thank you most kindly,” she replied as she extended her hand.  
The black-clad pirate’s long dark hair gleamed in the setting sun as he stepped around her. He stepped forward and extended his left hand with a solicitous look in his eyes which were as blue as forget-me-nots. She took hold of his hand, noting its warmth and strength. As he raised her to her feet, the jacket over his other arm shifted, exposing a vicious-looking hook where his right hand should have been.  
She paled and felt nauseous, recognizing who she was facing. “Excuse me sirs,” she said with the utmost politeness, for if one is ever faced with two pirates, one had best be polite, particularly if they have the advantage of surprise. “My name is Mrs. George Darling and I am looking for my three children – two boys and a girl – John, Michael and Wendy – so I can take them back home with me. I believe they may have run off to this place with someone named Peter Pan.”  
Captain Hook fixed his now ice-blue eyes upon her as he spoke with a tone as polite as Mrs. Darling’s had been. “We search as ever for Peter Pan. I hunt him in hopes of killing him and his entire, pathetic little crew.”  
“But my children may be with him!” she cried in great fear.  
“Madam,” he said, and his voice was as sleek and dark as the heavy black silk shirt he wore. “I shall spare your three children on one condition that you must promise me.”  
“Oh yes! I promise you anything as long as you shall spare my children!”  
“Then we have an agreement that you will do as I wish?”  
“Yes sir, we do.”  
“Anything I wish?”  
“Oh, yes – anything!”  
Hook smiled. It made Mrs. Darling very uneasy to see such a smile. No man she had ever met in her entire thirty-two years had ever smiled with such a combination of glee and cruelty, yet anything she could think of was worth promising to protect her children from certain death. Unfortunately, Mrs. Darling was used to dealing with men such as her husband who were always gentlemen -- she was from polite society after all – and she was completely unprepared to bargain with such an unscrupulous, wicked man as Captain Hook. She thought perhaps he might have something in need of mending that he would want her to stitch, or that he might want a good home-cooked meal, although as she thought this, she had to admit he looked well-fed and muscular in a frighteningly animalistic way. His shirt was sufficiently low-cut, she noted with multiple furtive glances, that it showed part of his chest which had some dark hairs curled against his pale skin. She began to become more nervous, but she reasoned with herself that a promise was a promise and her children would be safe. She then decidedly averted her eyes from the front of his shirt with a slight blush coming to her cheeks, none of which was missed by Hook.  
“Then dear lady, come to my ship now,” he said, still smiling. She nervously moved her hand to his left arm, while eying the hook on his right. She went compliantly with him, strongly hoping that since he seemed reasonable and polite, she might get him to agree to help her find her children so she could pack them all back home somehow, perhaps in time for breakfast the following morning. They boarded The Jolly Roger and walked across the deck. The crew goggled at the beautiful woman and Mrs. Darling suppressed a shiver, extremely glad for the Captain’s protection. Smee hurried ahead and held the door open. They entered Hook's quarters which were richly decorated with tapestries, velvets and silks. Smee lit more candles, as it was growing dark outside. Hook excused himself most politely, and went into another room, pulling the door closed behind him. Mrs. Darling noted with approval the beautiful harpsichord and precisely set table. She believed that a man familiar with such refinements must surely be a gentleman. Smee bowed and backed out through the door they had entered. Hook reemerged, having changed into a beautiful red shirt and elaborately embroidered and embellished jacket for dinner. The sight of the bulge in his black linen trousers was covered by the jacket.  
The ruffled, open neckline of his shirt reached all the way down to his black cummerbund, a sight which was not lost for a moment by Mrs. Darling. Hook noted with pleasure that her eyes were lingering more often and longer on his chest than became a lady, although she still tried to conceal her interest. Smee bustled in with dinner for two on a cart and set the silver serving dishes and wine on the table.  
“Have a pleasant evening Captain and m’am,” he said before he closed the door behind him.


	2. Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner and more

Mrs. Darling suddenly became very aware that she was alone in the personal quarters of an infamous pirate captain, far from home, and her certainty of his gentlemanliness began to develop the faintest of quavers. She soon became conscious of the fact that Hook’s appreciative gaze was often focused at length on her bosom as he put servings of food on their plates. She blushed gently. She found it difficult to meet his piercing eyes, as it made her feel as if he knew what she looked like without her gown. George had never looked at her that way, even on their honeymoon. Hook then poured black muscat into large glasses for each of them and silkily enquired, “Would you not like to try your dinner? We can talk afterwards, but with the long journey you’ve had I thought it best to provide you with some good food and drink. After all, you are a lady, and ladies need tending to by gentlemen.” Her confidence and trust in him was fully restored by his implication that he was a gentleman.  
“Thank you kind sir, for your most generous hospitality. I hope you will help me to find my children so I may take them back home.”   
“Madam, I am Captain James Hook, and I promised you that I would not kill your children. I have promised you nothing more than that in exchange for your compliance. Please do partake of your meal. I wish nothing more than that you should be comfortable at this time.” He said it so tenderly, softening his gaze upon her, that the thought never occurred to her that he might at some other time enjoy her discomfort, for certainly no gentleman she had ever met, and she had only ever met men who were gentlemen, would do so. She ate silently of a good portion of the meal and when she had finished one glass of wine, he refilled it and she drank that as well, though merely out of politeness, for she had never imbibed anything more than a single slender half-filled flute of champagne on very special occasions. She dabbed gently at the corners of her mouth after setting her fork down, indicating she was finished. He stood, raised his third glass of wine and smiled slyly at her.  
“To the fairest of ladies to ever agree to grace my ship, my quarters, and my bed.” He drained the glass and set it down. He raised his eyebrows at her expression of shock and horror before he spoke gently. “You don’t imagine I would trade the lives of your children for something paltry, do you? Hmm?” He turned her chair and positioned himself in front of her. His eyes and voice became icy. “A bargain is a bargain. If you renege on your end, it will be my pleasure to hunt your children down like vermin and slay them, every one.” She knew he meant what he said. Hook continued, “Stand up so I may kiss you.” She froze in fear. “Stand up!” he repeated, harshly whispering the words. His eyes narrowed with displeasure. She obeyed and felt him grip her, then press his lips against her own. She had only ever been kissed by Mr. Darling and this was as far as she could imagine in contrast to George’s gentle pecks. Hook’s slow, intense, predatory kiss imparted a heady heat to her, fueled by the muscat, which made her unsteady as she stood. His long, dark curls brushed softly against her face and she felt an urge, which she restrained, to caress his hair. She kept her hands at her sides which she felt was the only safe, proper thing to do with them. As his lips and tongue distracted her, his hand skillfully undid the buttons on the low-cut back of her dress before she became aware of his further predations upon her person. She shivered as the cold steel of his hook touched her skin as he stepped back slightly, peeling her dress away from her shoulders. He hissed with arousal as he saw her nearly naked bosom, barely contained within her corset. The top half of her dress fell to her hips. His voice was soft but his words carried an unmistakable threat, “Take off the rest or I’ll cut them from your body.” She stepped out of her shoes and dress, then wavered in indecision as to next removing her corset, or drawers, or stockings and garters. She was as visibly undressed at that point as she had ever been with George. At that point, being the gentleman he was, he would take off his glasses and turn off the lights, so anything else was only blurrily glimpsed by moonlight as Mrs. Darling would finish getting ready for bed. Hook solved her fear-filled quandary by forcefully guiding her to his bedroom, his hook poised at her throat, undoing her corset with his left hand as they went. By the time they arrived, he was able to remove it and so, she found herself clad only in her drawers and stockings, standing in his candle-lit private chamber, with her arms tightly wrapped across her breasts. He pitched the offending garment back, leaving it in the sitting room, before slamming the door shut behind them. “Move your arms away and take down your hair, that I may appraise you,” was his command as he released her. She instinctively turned slightly to the side out of modesty, which Hook noted with a sneer that managed to be both contemptuous and possessive. In his book, modesty was a foolish habit in captive females, and any display of it would be broken at his leisure. He paused for some moments raking her with a thoughtfully lascivious stare as she obeyed, taking in every delectable detail of her appearance. It had been quite some time since he had seen such a fair specimen of womanhood. Her skin was creamy, her waist was small, and her breasts were yet firm, despite three children. Her thick brown hair fell in curls halfway down her back. The choker she wore emphasized the beauty of her slender neck. Her white-knuckled hands clutched the waist of her drawers. Mrs. Darling was shivering and she watched him out of the corner of her eye, wary of meeting his gaze.   
Then, not unexpectedly, Hook got busy removing his own clothes. He advanced towards her as he stripped slowly, leering at her with no subtlety as to his intentions. Mrs. Darling shrank back onto the large, canopied bed while looking around for some route of escape. She noted another door in the far wall of his spacious quarters. She also noted other things. He was not known as the wickedest, most cruel man in Neverland without tremendous justification. Wealth and years of travel to foreign ports had given him the opportunity to collect a wide variety of exotic erotic and sadistic devices. His bedroom was a veritable den of iniquity, with items ranging from the seductive to the unspeakable, lining the shelves. Actually the various items ran the gamut from the seductively unspeakable to the unspeakably seductive. Captain James Hook was a man of carnal tastes.


	3. Personal Introductions

At last he stood in front of her, wearing only his pants, and the straps and device for his hook. She was very afraid of his feral appearance which also included a tattoo of the crest of his alma mater which she recognized as Eton. She scrambled under the bedcovers, pulling them over her head, then heard him laughing heartily. Suddenly she felt his weight on top of her and he pulled the covers back enough that he could see her face. He slid his hook under her chin and enunciated each word slowly, “Yield, or die.” She let go of the covers and he moved aside, undraping her and staring at her trembling form. He kept his hook positioned at her throat as his mouth roamed over her upper body, his hand gripping her hip. Mrs. Darling whimpered and quivered and gasped, “Oh, my!” especially when he would do aggressive things with his mouth that her sweet George had never done. New sensations flooded her senses as she was licked, sucked, nipped and even bitten, although he did not break her skin. She was intensely aware that not only was Cpt. James Hook not a gentleman, but rather that he was a dangerous animal on the hunt for a mate. She felt him wriggle back as he divested himself of his pants and then he slid into bed, half atop her. His hand found the tied drawstring of her drawers and staring into her eyes, he gave it a sharp tug. He then slowly, but not hesitantly, slid his hand between the fabric and her heretofore unexplored skin, watching her eyes widen and her head pull back, nostrils flaring. Hook smiled as his hand moved, pushing her drawers lower, expertly maneuvering his fingers all the while. “Lift your bum,” he murmured. As she did, he tugged her knickers down to her knees. “Get them off and hand them up,” he growled.  
She silently begged with her eyes for a brief moment but then complied. He snatched them away from her, rolling the thin, white fabric between his fingers in front of her face, smirking victoriously. “My pet’s not got her cunny covered, but it’ll get covered and filled too, soon enough.” Mrs. Darling cringed at the coarse imagery and language. Being a lady, she was not familiar with one word he used, but she understood his intentions. They were not the intentions of a gentleman.  
“Please sir, do not use me wickedly,” she begged. “I have done you no harm, and besides I am a married woman.”  
“True,” Hook conceded with mockery in his voice, “but adultery is the only Commandment I’ve not broken recently. My crew will think I’ve gone all virtuous, and that I cannot have, especially since such a fair and delicious creature has come to me.” He laughed low as she tried timidly attempting to push away his hand from between her thighs, his fingers sliding down to linger between her folds and she tried to hold back her reaction to this unseemly invasion of her person. Her breathing became labored as he continued to touch her in a calculated and deliberate manner, and when she finally cried out in a way she never had with George, Hook withdrew his slippery fingers and shifted himself onto her, pressing his hard length against her soft, yielding dampness. His lips brushed against her face and he groaned with pleasure as he sheathed himself within her. Mrs. Darling had turned her head to the side away from the hook. The Captain, satisfied she was under his control, bent his right arm more, shifted some weight onto it, and ran his tongue up her neck, then her ear. She let out a small shriek as his mouth and heavy curls caressed her. Hook continued to taste her as his hips maintained their steady thrusts. His left hand had found her tender breasts and was exploring them in rude, rough ways which brought whimpers from her that she tried to stifle in the pillow. Mrs. Darling began to pant and to feel very strange again. Certainly the muscat played a part, but it was also the boudoir skills that Hook used. He was, after all, more than a little acquainted with the intimacies and responses of women’s bodies, having found such knowledge useful as well as pleasurable on many occasions. Her hips began to thrust of their own accord. “No, no, noooo,” was all she could gasp. Hook paused after a couple of moments and turned her face up to his. “Madam, either begin to say ‘yes’ or you will make closer acquaintance of my hook. And,” he paused for emphasis, “if I ask you questions whilst bedding you, you would do well to be agreeable unless you’d enjoy the spectacle of seeing your children disemboweled. Do you understand?”  
Mrs. Darling could only nod once, so horrified was she at the thought of what this beast atop her was capable of. Hook began thrusting harder and poor Mrs. Darling bit her lip from fear of saying anything that could be displeasing to her captor. Hook placed his lips against her ear and growled, “Does my wench enjoy what she’s getting in bed?” A tear-choked, “Yes,” came from Mrs. Darling.  
“Do you want me on you all night long?”  
“Y—yes.”  
“Do you desire me more than your husband?” At that, Mrs. Darling began to weep openly, but managed to give the needed affirmative reply. Hook was relentless – “Tell me those things, then.”  
Poor shocked Mrs. Darling was only able to stammer out, “I, I am glad to be in your bed. Please kiss me.” Hook kissed her even more passionately than ever as Mrs. Darling tried to not feel guilty. She tried to think of the fact that if Hook was busy in bed with her, then at least he was not disemboweling her children, but it was very difficult for her to think at all as her consciousness swayed, as it never had in any embrace with George. Hook’s carnal cadence changed, gaining speed and he buried his face in her hair as he ground himself into her, groaning and panting until he finally shuddered and lay still. She could feel his heart pounding and her body moist with his sweat. He rolled off and lay alongside her.  
“Captain, do you have a washbasin?” she most timidly queried after a few minutes. Hook grunted, got up, and going to the far door, opened it and shouted, “Smee, bring hot washwater!”  
Mrs. Darling felt emboldened to ask, “Where does that door lead to?”  
Hook turned and smiled. “My pet, it leads directly into my crew’s quarters, so if you ever tire of me, you’re quite welcome to exit out this door. They’ll all be glad to take several turns each with you until you die. That’s what’s happened to all the other mothers who have ever come to Neverland looking for their children. I have them for awhile and then they either run away, or I shove them out the door. I’m willing to keep you awhile though as long as you obediently amuse me.”  
A knock on the door gave Mrs. Darling time to cover herself as Smee entered with a very large serving cart on which were multiple steaming containers and two large towels. He also had Mrs. Darling’s corset and pale pink gown which he set on a chair with a smile and the comment, “Cap’n, it looks like you peeled her like a shrimp.” Mrs. Darling emitted a whimper. Hook had to cough in order to suppress laughter. Smee continued, “Is there anything else you’ll be wanting?”  
“No. Go now.” Hook pulled a galvanized tub from a closet, set it next to the cart and began dumping the containers of hot water into it. Mrs. Darling stared in fascination at the graceful movement of his unclothed, lithe, well-muscled body. Within minutes the tub was half full. It was quite deep, much more than the one at the Darlings’ home. Hook tugged a pier glass nearby, so it reflected the tub, then turned and beckoned. “Get into the tub.” He quickly stepped in behind her and sat down before she did. He stared up at her sweetly curved bottom (and another nearby area) and remarked, “Much as I like the view, I invite you to sit on my lap and we’ll soak together.” She sat gingerly, trying to crouch forward in the tub so as not to come in contact with his intimate area any more than necessary, but he tugged her back so she landed squishily on his relaxed manhood. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his whiskered face between her shoulder blades, nibbling gently. She squirmed and his soft laugh made her more fearful. “My dear peeled Shrimp, you seem to not be accustomed to the intimate affections of a man. Doesn’t your husband bathe with you?”  
“George would never look at me without my clothing.” At that, Hook ran his tongue up her spine and she shivered as her nipples hardened. He noted that change from the mirror and ran his hand up from her waist to grasp her left breast, smiling crookedly. “So he’s never seen you as I have?”  
“No. He would never take such advantage of me. He is a decent and honest man.”  
“Are you honest in return with him?”  
“Yes. We keep no secrets and hide nothing from each other.”  
The irony was not lost on Hook, who then queried, “And you have never offered yourself to him without clothing, hmm?”  
“No!”  
Hook laughed, but it was not a cheery laugh to lift one’s heart. It was dark and mocking and portended no glad tidings for the trembling Mrs. Darling. “Have you seen him naked, perhaps closely examined his cock, touched it, while he was asleep?”  
“Not, not really,” she stammered. Hook raised a skeptical eyebrow. She hastily replied, “Yes. I’ve looked at it while he was asleep. I touched it once when it was, well, you know. It was right before he awoke one morning.”  
“Do you suppose your precious George has done the same with you while you were sleeping – looking, touching you, perhaps getting you drunk enough so you did not notice him spreading your cunny open while he took a good look at where his cock goes?”  
“No!!” There was nearly a shriek in her voice.  
Hook could see her blush. He paused a moment enjoying the sight of her, then crooned in her ear, “Since we’re cozy in this tub, I’ll wash you and then you’ll wash me, hmm?” She knew there was no question. He reached over and grabbed a sponge and soap from the cart and began gently washing her, back and front, as she sat there, not daring to move. “Now get up on your knees, spread your thighs a bit. Mmm.” He started on her backside, sliding the sponge in long firm strokes down between her cheeks, taking his time before he moved on. She was very aware of him looking at the mirror as he washed her front, with his face leaned against her side. He lingered in some areas which made her breathe rapidly and unevenly as she clutched the edge of the tub with one hand, but at last he was done. “Change places with me.”  
She stood and hastily moved around behind him, then seated herself. He leaned back against her, smiling and rubbing his back against her breasts, then sat forward a bit, unbuckled the strap that held fast the device that held his hook and let it all slide off. She averted her gaze and focused on washing his back, finally reaching around to wash his chest, trying to avoid his nipples lest rubbing them with the cloth would incite some unwanted reaction from him. He got up on his knees and she quickly got the washcloth around to his backside, closing her eyes and rubbing one cheek gingerly. She felt the sponge being tugged from her and she quickly released it, thinking he was going to wash the rest of himself, a task which she was more than relieved to let him complete. Hook spoke mockingly. “I seem to have dropped it, so you’ll just have to finish washing me with your hands. I’ll teach you how to wash a man. Get a good lather before you grip me.” He caught her horrorstruck reflection in the mirror and laughed again. “Pet, would you prefer that I disembowel your children, then rip their throats, or rip their throats and do the disemboweling last?” He felt her shudder as she timidly extended a soapy hand near his half-hard erection. “Stroke my cock nicely and clean it well enough that you will want to have it in your mouth later.” She didn’t notice what he had said, so overwhelmed was she with fear for her precious children. She patted it with the lightest of touches and he put his hand over hers saying, “It needs to be gripped by your hand like it gets gripped when it’s between your thighs, up inside your sweet cunny. Slide your hand back and forth and it will respond well to your affections.” She did as she was ordered. She could tell he was bigger than George whom she had gauged with her hand that time when she touched him. Hook’s length was yet again the span of her palm beyond George and definitely thicker. “Time to rinse, dry off and get back into bed. An evening of instruction and pleasure awaits you.”


	4. Mindfuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hook's intentions begin to be revealed.

Mrs. Darling shrank away from Hook as she saw the look of predatory arousal on his face. She realized with shock that he wanted her again in the same night. Her beloved George never engaged in intimacies more than once in an evening, even on their honeymoon, and they had settled into a pattern of twice monthly on Saturdays which George felt met his needs.  
Hook’s nostrils flared as he got back on the bed next to her, hungrily scrutinizing her with his eyes and stroking her body gently with his hand. “My dear Shrimp, tell me, how often does your husband exercise his conjugal rights?” Mrs. Darling explained her pattern of marital intimacy, adding that when her monthly started, unexpectedly on their honeymoon, that George was content to wait. George, she explained behaved as a gentleman should. There was silence as Hook pensively digested this information and Mrs. Darling was developing hope that the Captain was going to follow the good example of Mr. Darling’s continence when he spoke.  
“Is your husband ill?”  
“No.”  
“Infirm?”  
“No.”  
“Inebriated?”  
“No!”  
“Insane?”  
“No!”  
“Then madam, I can only conclude he is an imbecile. I shall bed you once every morning, twice at night and as frequently as possible midday. What say you to that?” Mrs. Darling was able to respond with an answer that was not a lie, yet pleased Hook immensely.  
“I am fearful of such tremendous virility as yours sir. I am certain no man I have ever met in London possesses such a carnal appetite as do you.” Mrs. Darling wanted to defend George but she was rightfully frightened of Hook’s wrath and decided to change the topic. “Sir, will you let me find my children and take them home tomorrow?” she queried timidly.  
“No,” came the immediate bemused reply. “Your children live as long as you come to my bed. If you should decide to cease doing that, then not only shall I kill them personally, but before I rip out each of their throats, I shall be sure to tell them that they are going to die both slowly and painfully because their mother did not care enough for them to stay alive. Perhaps I should capture them and then if I need to teach you a lesson in the rules, I shall be able to do so very easily. You could then watch as I …”  
Mrs. Darling’s burst of hysterical sobbing cut him off as she clutched him and frantically begged him to not continue his description and that she would let him do any number of things to her person that pleased him, if only he would not harm her children. Hook was not moved by her maternal protectiveness, but he was impressed with her swift willingness to be used to protect her children. The smile that came then to his face would have terrified her even more had she not closed her eyes already. He sat up in the bed and he spoke softly in a way she was coming to recognize as being very dangerous. “Put your head in my lap, and your pretty mouth on my cock. You will kiss and lick and suck on it until I am fully pleasured.” He took delight in seeing the blood drain from her face and the reluctance with which she moved towards him, her inner turmoil clearly showing in her wide eyes. “You seem to be slow to come to me. Shall my hook be of assistance in getting you started?”  
She moved more swiftly, albeit not by much, grasping his thighs and lowering her face over his intimate area. He took pleasure from the feel of her tears as they fell from her now-blushing face, moistening him before he felt the tip of her tongue brush against him. Her tongue quickly pulled away at the taste of the drops of his fluid and she jerked back with a shudder and a sound of disgust, clasping her hands over her mouth, which both amused and displeased him. His fingers raked into her hair and forcefully pulled her head back over his groin.  
He smirked as he spoke. “Dear Shrimp, have you never tasted a man’s seed?”  
“No!” she replied, sobbing violently, “I have never even heard of such a disgusting and wicked act.”  
“Just suck it until it gets hard. Use only your tongue and lips, no teeth. Some other time I’ll teach you how to make it spit my seed into your lovely mouth.”  
She did as she was told. He groaned softly, got hard quickly, laid her back and was on her again, stroking slowly. “Do you know, my beauty, the second time in a session is the best because the man can last longer than he did the first time? Some men even pleasure themselves before bedding a woman so they can last longer when they take her. Do you suppose your husband does that?”  
“George would not even speak of such a vile act, let alone do it.”  
“Well then, I must wonder how he became such an imbecile?” said Hook with an unpleasant chortle and a rough thrust to punctuate the end of his sentence.  
Mrs. Darling got up the nerve to glare at him in anger after she gasped from the pain. Hook grinned at her, his forget-me-not blue eyes sparkling, as he spoke, “What a heated gaze you have my dear! I quite enjoy a woman who has some fire.” He nipped her neck and bent his head down lower, leaving a trail of bite marks across her bosom as she squirmed and gritted her teeth. He reached his hand down as he continued to work himself steadily in and out and found her tender nub which he began expertly touching.  
Mrs. Darling’s eyes got big at first, then her gaze softened and became dreamy. Her breathing deepened and she began writhing. After some minutes she began moaning repeatedly, “Oh please, oh God, oh yes, oh James.” She embraced Hook, ardently kissing his neck and chest briefly before she became unable to articulate anything. Animal noises and uncontrolled rhythmic movements throbbed from the core of her being. Hook remained in control of himself as much as possible, for he had a plan. He gauged the intensity of her response, letting it decline before raising it again and repeating the process twice more for good measure. Eventually, when he was satisfied she was near her peak, begging for a release she knew naught of, he gave it and also assuredly allowed himself the full pleasure of the deliciousness of her heat and abandoned himself to it. After they had finished, he rolled off her, stroking her gently, amusing himself with her responses for some time as she still whimpered and squirmed under his hand.  
“Pet – what if I was to tell you that you and your children could return home tomorrow? Would you go?” Mrs. Darling nodded as it was all she could do at the moment. Hook’s voice took on a smooth tone of profound concern. “And what would you tell George if he asked you to tell him all about what occurred? You would want to be honest with him wouldn’t you?” Hook rested his hand to allow her to respond.  
“Yes. George and I are completely honest with each other. We have no secrets.”  
“So you would tell him that you stripped naked, bathed with and went to bed with me,” Hook smoothly stated.  
“I, I did it to save my children. I believe he would understand.”  
“Will you also tell him as to what you did with your mouth and my cock? Do you think he would ever be able to kiss you again without thinking of where your mouth has been?”  
Mrs. Darling paused. Hook pressed on but the tone of his voice was now husky and mocking. “Will you also tell him that as you writhed and moaned in pleasure as you lay with me, you took the Lord’s name in vain and also called my name aloud, none of which I required you to do?” Hook appreciated the look of confused fear on her face. He continued, “George has never made you feel the way I just did, has he? Are you going to go home and announce to him in all honesty that some villainous stranger can do a far superior job of pleasuring his wife, or are you going to lie to him by omission? To do either would be unspeakably cruel to him, would it not?”  
Mrs. Darling burst into tears. Hook leaned over her, gently dabbing away some of her tears with a corner of the bedsheet, and then proceeded to hold her as she continued to weep. “Shhh, Shrimp, shhh” he murmured as he gently stroked her hair and rocked her. “I can help you make a decision about your dilemma. I care very much about your happiness and comfort. To continue living with him as his loving, honest wife, after you have either grossly insulted his skills of conjugal intimacies, or to live alongside him constantly withholding important information, that as your husband he has a right to know about, would seem at the least, very hurtful towards him of whom you proclaim such love.” She sobbed harder as she realized the truth of his words.  
He smiled as he spoke into her ear, holding her close. “There is a solution that is less painful and far more honorable than either of those two choices. I will offer it, if you will accept it.”


	5. Maternal Instincts

Agitated, confused, distraught Mrs. Darling was too overwhelmed to think clearly. If she’d had more blood in her brain and much less alcohol in her blood, she would have realized that the last choice in the world that could benefit her was any offer from James Hook. However, Hook’s reputation for cunning, deceit and treachery was entirely deserved.  
She looked at his bright blue eyes through her tears and asked, “What is your solution?”  
He gently repeated, “I will offer my solution in a moment, if you promise me now to accept it. Of course if you did tell him everything – that you slipped in and out of heaven with me -- it would probably drive him to madness and you’d come home one day to find him hanging from the rafters.”  
Hook waited several minutes for Mrs. Darling’s horrified wailing to subside before he continued. “On the other hand, if you didn’t tell him, I’m sure the weight of dishonestly keeping such important knowledge, to which he has a right as your husband, would probably drive you over the edge and George, or the children, would come home one day to find that you had done a great harm to yourself. Does your parlor have rafters? Hmm?”  
Her words burst forth between her wracking sobs. “Yes. Oh please tell me! I, I accept your solution as long as my children will be safe and George will not harm himself. Please, I beg you to tell me!!”  
Hook smiled, for he knew his plan was working. It had been many years since the last one, but he had not lost his treachery.  
Hook raised her face to his, gazing intently with seeming tenderness as he spoke. “I say this to you Mrs. Darling only out of the deepest concern for your well-being and that of your other family members as well. Would it not be best to send your children back to their father who loves and misses them so dreadfully, while you live in noble, self-imposed exile away from causing harm to any of them, here with me? I will watch over you and protect you from harm by your own carnal impulses. You must of course be willing to submit yourself to me.”  
Mrs. Darling sniffled and nodded. “Thank you. You are so clever to come up with the best possible solution for my plight.” Hook nodded solemnly as he looked deep into her eyes. He fought off the urge to laugh. The nicest ones were the easiest by far.  
Mrs. Darling spoke up hesitantly, “I, I don’t really know what you mean by my own carnal impulses. I do recall that you, sir, were gazing particularly at my bosom as you served up dinner.” She looked somewhat accusingly at Hook.  
Hook smiled gently. “Madam, when we met in the jungle, you frequently looked at my chest where my shirt lay open. You just didn’t think I noticed. So at dinner, I was merely returning the silent compliment.”  
Mrs. Darling turned a delicate shade of pink. Hook went on, “In fact, as I was filling up the bath, I noticed your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were most definitely fixed on my naked body the entire time. You appeared quite fascinated and not at all hesitant at staring at as much of me as you could possibly see.”  
Mrs. Darling blushed heatedly, more so than she ever had in her life, and she ducked her head in shame. He took her face in his hand, smirking. “I not only know a comely woman when I see one, I also know a woman with wanton desires that she has easily kept hidden from her gentlemanly husband who probably wouldn’t recognize passion if it licked him on the bollocks. But you cannot, my Shrimp, keep such desires a secret from me.” He kissed her, slowly letting his mouth trail down her neck, across the top of her breasts. She was flushed, but not from embarrassment.  
He stopped cold and lifted his head. “Ahh. It would not be gentlemanly to continue, lest you again respond with passion that I’m sure causes you grievous distress.” Mrs. Darling had no reply. Hook found himself laughing at the conflicting desires that played across her features. “Fortunately for you my pet, I am not that much of a gentleman.” He lowered his head on her left breast and nipped at the rosy tip.  
There was a loud knock. Smee called out, “Cap’n! We’ve caught a boy!” Hook got up swiftly and put his breeches on, tossing his robe to Mrs. Darling and motioning her to get up. In a moment he opened the door. Mrs. Darling did not recognize the boy who looked to be about nine, but her instincts kicked into gear. He had obviously been mistreated at the hands of his captors.  
“My son!” she cried. “He says his name is Slightly, Cap’n,” said Smee. Hook glared suspiciously at Mrs. Darling, noting the startled look on Slightly’s face.  
“You said your sons are named John and Michael. Why do you call this boy your son?”  
“I, I only told you of my sons who left home. Slightly was home when I left. I didn’t know he was here. He must’ve come here after I did.”  
Slightly was quick to catch on. “Yes Mother, I came to find you. And here you are! We really should go home now,” he added hopefully, eyeing Hook with trepidation.  
Hook smirked. “Shrimp, you made no agreement with me regarding this child; therefore I am free to use him as target practice.” Slightly blanched and Mrs. Darling’s wrath at Hook’s bullying burst forth. Her eyes narrowed as she snarled at the surprised pirate, “How dare you mistreat him! He’s just a child. He’s my child and I will do whatever I must to protect him.”  
Hook raised his eyebrows. “What noble intentions you have. Let us reach an agreement then. What can you offer me in exchange for agreeing to not harm him?”  
Slightly cried out, “Mother, he is a fiend and a bounder! I cannot let you..”  
Mrs. Darling cut him off, “Hush son! You are my child and it is my loving duty to protect you, not the other way around, although your gentlemanly attitude does make me proud.”  
Hook rolled his eyes and snorted. “How honorable! But back to an agreement, Shrimp. What do you offer?” It was difficult to say what made her make this particular choice, but Mrs. Darling, who was still profoundly under the influence of the muscat, had certainly heard of Lady Godiva. “Captain, if you agree to not harm him, I shall walk once around the deck of your ship, in front of you and your crew, wearing nothing, but no one is allowed to touch me or hinder me.”  
The loud dull thunk which diverted their attention momentarily was the sound of Smee fainting. Slightly’s eyes were wide with horrified admiration for Mrs. Darling’s audacity, and Hook’s eyes were agleam with lust.”  
“Agreed! There is no time like the present.” Hook put on his jacket, stepped over Smee’s body and beckoned the lady towards the door. “The lad will wait here until you’ve finished your stroll.” Hook turned to Slightly, “Heed me boy, if you do anything foolish, her life is forfeit.” Mrs. Darling’s heart was pounding as she stepped slowly out the door wearing Hook’s robe.  
Smee had recovered and stepped out alongside her to make the announcement. “Brutes! To save the life of her son Slightly, this lady will stroll ‘round the deck once while wearing nothing. You may stare all you want, but you may not touch or hinder her.”  
Hook slid the robe off her. The night air was crisp and made her nipples hard. Some wept to see her beauty, some smirked at her shame which was evident in her downcast eyes and red cheeks, but every man among that hard-hearted crew wished their mothers had been so devoted to them.


	6. A Nighttime Stroll

Never before had Mrs. Darling been so bold as on this night. The chilly air brushed her body, keeping her nipples erect, as she began her promenade. She could see her breath each time she nervously exhaled. Ice was barely starting to form on the deck of the ship. As she walked, she thought she recognized some of the pirates from the descriptions she had heard Wendy tell in stories at home.   
Noodler, of course, was easy to spot and she felt queasy at he waved to her with a backward hand. None of the crew was particularly handsome, but Alf Mason stood out in his ugliness. Mrs. Darling found herself having the unkind thought, “If I had been his mother, I’d have sold him for a bottle of muscat, too.” She realized she liked muscat quite a bit and was enjoying the sensation which it gave her. She was a bit unsteady, and walked especially slowly to avoid stumbling on the rough-hewn wood. She did not want to trip and go sprawling, or worse, stumble and land against one of Hook’s notorious crew.  
Some of the pirates grinned suggestively and licked their lips as she passed them as they muttered vulgar desires. She held her head high, keeping her mind as best she could on poor Slightly, who remained in Hook’s sitting room away from the spectacle of her stroll. She was consistently aware of Hook’s stare from the doorway of his quarters, feeling it as a heat upon her, possessively caressing her. As she began the last part of her walk towards his cabin, she saw Smee finishing his duty at getting Hook’s harness back on along with his jacket. When at last she stopped, back at where she started, Hook smiled at her. “Well done, my beauty.” There was a degree of genuine admiration in his voice, colored with just a trace of mockery.   
His smile vanished as he nodded to Smee, “Put the boy in crew’s quarters.” Smee hustled in to do so and Hook took time to stare at Mrs. Darling’s now-shivering form, still standing outside his suite, her back towards the deck.   
“Captain, I’m cold,” she firmly said. She was hoping he would let her have his robe back to wrap up in, but instead, he stepped to her and wrapped his arms around her, caressing her in his embrace of rich velvet and silk, which covered the hardness of his muscles. His jacket was open and she felt his body heat as he held her against his bare chest. She shivered and Hook enjoyed the sensation of her movement against him. The hardness of her nipples reminded him of the recent pleasures he’d had with her and he began to be aroused again. He stroked her hair with the back of his hook, while his hand glided down her back to caress her bottom. A collective groan went up from the crew as each of them envisioned himself in the Captain’s place. Mrs. Darling started and blushed as she suddenly felt more sober, intensely aware that several dozen pirates were eyeing her naked form.  
Hook chuckled and whispered in her ear, “Would you like to give them a show of your new bedroom skill? I think your mouth could use a bit more practice.” He stepped back a bit as she gasped, blushed and whispered, “No! I demand we go inside right now!”   
Hook laughed and spoke aloud, “You’re not the first woman to demand that I take her to my cabin so she can suck me off.” An even louder collective groan arose from the crew at that comment.  
Mrs. Darling was furious. “I want to go in so I can warm up!”  
Hook laughed again. “Oh, so you want to get heated up again. Well, I’ll certainly be glad to satisfy that desire.”  
There were laughs interspersed with the groans at that comment.  
“I’m cold, sir! The frozen deck and night air cannot be good for my health and I need to put something on!” There was a near-tearful urgency in her tone at this point.  
Hook leered at her. “Rest assured my dear, you will get covered most thoroughly. Then again, in getting covered, you won’t get much rest. But you didn’t seem to mind earlier.” He smirked as he continued, “You were as I recall, quite pleasured, and willing to pleasure.” He dragged out the last three words, emphasizing them in a most lewd way, calculated to provoke her temper.  
Laughter and catcalls rang from the deck. Noodler clutched his hat and moaned at the thought of a woman who was willing to pleasure a man.  
“You vile beast!” She spat the words at Hook.  
Hook’s demeanor changed and Mrs. Darling knew she had angered him. He did not attempt to kill her, nor did his eyes turn red, but her mind quickly turned to Hook’s array of devices and she shuddered. Without a word, he yanked her arm and pulled her into the dimness of his sitting room.


	7. His Whims and Will

Hook thrust her roughly inside, slamming the door behind him. “You call me a ‘vile beast’, when I have, up to this point, been so gentle with you!” He glared wrathfully at her. “Madam, I have not blackened your eyes, broken any of your bones, nor knocked out any of your teeth! I have told you what I expect and what the consequences would be if you did not fulfill my expectations. I have not acted capriciously or with undue force despite the fact you try my temper most severely.” He stared at her with a gleam in his eye as he continued.  
He paused, then continued, "I have been taking the time to most gently teach you some ways to pleasure a man. Training which you obviously did not receive from your pathetic excuse of a husband, but an education which I know will serve you well."  
Mrs Darling shuddered with the recollection of Hook's hand in her hair and his cock thrusting into her throat, as her experience did not remotely resemble anything she would describe as gentle.  
“Now I will admit there are those worse than myself. I’m sure you can think of at least one you would have read about in the papers.” He paused ever so briefly and added, “Perhaps someone you’ve met in the better circles you travel in.”  
He was pleased to see he had struck a nerve by the way she blanched. “You’re his cousin aren’t you, Captain?”  
Hook gave a tight smile. “Ah, you recall meeting my dear cousin when he was still a respectable banker. I believe he was the youngest member on the Board of Directors. You and your husband met him when your highly esteemed father pulled strings to get an invitation to that dinner party. I suspect your father was hoping to have your husband make some good connections and get hired away from the bank.” Hook sneered. “Alas, no one wanted George. You were a different matter.”  
A tangle of questions rolled around in her mind but they evaporated as he advanced.

She scurried back away from him, bumping up against his desk.  
His voice became soft, controlled, and utterly menacing as he slowly approached her. “I think by the time I finish with you tonight, you will be much improved in your descriptions of me and that you will even be thankful for my kind attentions upon your person.”  
He seized her arm, turned her around and shoved her onto the bed. She had not noticed the manacles before, but Hook had no trouble grabbing them and securing her spread-eagled to the bed. She watched as he drew some black silk fabric out of a cabinet drawer and advanced slowly, with a sadistic sneer.  
He tied the sash firmly over her eyes and then she felt a second one being secured across her mouth.  
“You’ll still be able to scream, Shrimp. You just won’t be able to manage an earsplitting volume.”  
She heard his boots as he walked across the wooden floor to another area of the room. Drawers were opened and she could hear some jingling and rustling. Then there was a sound that chilled her heart – Hook’s soft laughter, and a murmur of something she couldn’t quite catch as he spoke to himself.  
Fear-filled thoughts crowded her mind, jostling for attention, each more terrible than the previous ones, drowning out any awareness of the present.  
She shrieked and bucked as she felt a light touch upon her foot, reacting out of fear, rather than the actual sensation. The slow soft touch, feathery-light, moved up the outside of her leg and across her belly, swirling around each breast, then descending in an arc down the opposite outer leg. For a moment, there was no sensation and she lay panting, heart pounding from a mix of fear and stimulation. The touch suddenly returned, alighting on her inner thigh, just above her knee and journeyed tantalizingly towards her sex, but paused just short of it and moved over to the other inner thigh to begin a downward sweep to her knee. Several times this was done, and finally she was pleading with him, although not in the way she would have been expecting to do so when she was first secured to the bed.  
Hook finally spoke softly to her. “Do you realize, Shrimp, that every bit of your body belongs entirely to me? You are absolutely subject to my whims and will.”  
Mrs. Darling emitted a muffled, “Yes.”  
“Yet Shrimp, I don’t think you appreciate my kindness as you should. Perhaps that is because you have nothing to compare it to. I have sensations to share that can broaden your perspective.” A wild shriek came from our dear Mrs. Darling as Hook drizzled liquid candle wax across her breasts, and down her belly. He paused, and she felt her most private area being spread open with his rough fingers, then held open with the edge of his hook. Her pleading began in earnest as one drop was followed by another.  
His smooth voice taunted her, “I’m surprised any of the wax sticks – you’re quite wet, you know. It seems that your cunny enjoys me, much more than you’d admit. Yet there are other things to be done before I use you again tonight.”  
She felt him get off the bed, and heard another drawer being opened. He sat alongside her and she felt something prickly being lightly dragged up her right thigh, then up her left. The sensation was not painful, but it made her squirm. Again, the object was used but with a bit more pressure, which imparted a light, stinging sensation. Yet a third time he stroked her with it, but with even a bit more pressure. Her thighs felt aflame from it, tenderized, as they were. Once more, his hand spread her open, and his hook held her there. She cried out and writhed as the tiny, sharp points made slow, light contact, again and again.  
Finally, she heard him lay aside the object. She felt two of his fingers slide into her, curling upwards and she could not restrain the moan which brought an unseen smile to Hook’s face. She felt the bed shift a bit and realized the new sensation she was feeling was that of his hair and face on her belly. His tongue ran in circles downward from her navel, and she realized with a thrill of mixed emotions that his tongue was heading for her most sensitive area. When he seized a tender lip between his own, sucking and tasting it, she thought she would go mad from the sensations. His whiskers brushed up against her tender nub as his fingers worked relentlessly inside her, and he moved his attentions to the lip on the other side. She was shrieking and bucking, wailing and gasping, and when his lips finally grasped her clit, sucking and rolling his tongue upon her tenderness, she felt her intimate area throb and release a small burst of fluid. At that, she wept, believing she had wet herself and fearing Hook would punish her further. Humiliation surged through her as she heard him laughing.  
“Ahh, those sweet pearly drops of pleasure! I wouldn’t have thought you capable of such release, my Shrimp. It’s said that only truly wanton women will do that, and truth be told, though I’ve laid with dozens, I’ve only known one other who did. You’re quite a randy little creature!”  
Mrs. Darling continued to weep in shame, confusion and fear. Thus, when Hook removed her gag, shackles and blindfold, Mrs Darling was bewildered. He then cradled her up against him and she buried her face against his hot chest and clung to him until her sobs subsided.  
Hook eased her back and with a deft touch, dabbed at her face with the silk blindfold to dry her tears. “Shhh, Shrimp. You look exhausted. Perhaps we should sleep now.” His look of concern changed to a leer, “I can get a fresh start with you in the morning.”


	8. Self-pleasure

Mrs Darling awoke to realize the Captain was dozing, half atop her. He had left her legs freed from the manacles, but had replaced those on her wrists. Her thighs itched desperately and she longed to scratch them. “Captain,” she called softly, wanting to wake him gently.  
Hook groaned and inhaled deeply as he stretched, but did not open his eyes. Mrs. Darling was very glad he had taken the time to remove his harness along with his clothes again, before he’d fallen asleep. His stump brushed against her as he moved. “Mmm, wench?” he murmured. His nostrils flared as he again drew a deep breath and a slight smile played at his mouth. “A beauty in my bed?” He opened one eye. “Hmm. Not a dream.” The smile grew as he opened the other eye. He threw back the covers and moved on top of her.  
“Please sir, I need to use the chamber pot.”  
“I suppose you want me to free your arms rather than holding the pot for you?”  
She nodded and he got up, grabbed a key from a drawer and unlocked her arms. He reached under the bed and pulled out the pot, which she moved to the opposite side of the enormous bed and used. She wondered how many other women he’d had there and then had the immodest thought that he might have had more than one woman in bed with him at the same time – the bed could easily accommodate three people, even four.  
“Ahh, yes, the ever-modest Shrimp!” She could hear the distain in his voice. He stood up. Hook spoke suddenly. “Lie back.” She nervously set down the chamber pot and complied.  
“Spread your legs apart. I want to look at all of you some more. In fact, I want you to tilt your hips up and spread your cunny lips apart so I can look at all of your tender pink places. Bend your knees and set your feet well apart.” Mrs Darling blushed deeply and tentatively reached down, gently opening her folds as she was told, watching him with a mixture of dread and fascination, but not meeting his eyes. He stared, smiled crookedly and commented, “If I had wed you when you were young, nothing could have kept me from taking you immediately, monthly time or not. I would’ve wanted to take you at the conclusion of the ceremony right in front of the minister and guests. The sight of your open thighs is quite inviting. I wouldn’t care if they were covered in blood.” He continued to stand at the foot of the bed, staring at her and smiling to himself as she looked away. She feared his touch at that moment, lying there so very vulnerable, remembering the pain he’d caused her and knowing him to be murderously hot-tempered. She was embarrassed to see from the corner of her eye, he had lain down again, rolled over towards her, resting his head upon his hand, with his elbow bent.  
He ran his hand casually between her legs in a manner that made her breathe erratically. “Shrimp, do you pleasure yourself often?” She blushed as she wondered how he could know what lay in the darkest, most-shame-filled recesses of her ladylike soul.  
Her silence annoyed him and he reached up and seized one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He increased the pressure as the silence grew, until she finally spoke with a pained look upon her face.  
“I, I have sometimes done that, but less often since I married George fifteen years ago.”  
“Why less?” There was genuine curiosity in his voice.  
“A married woman should receive intimate pleasure only from her husband.”  
Hook gave a short sharp laugh. “How respectable! Well, on those now-infrequent occasions, whom do you think of when you slide your hand between your thighs?”  
“My husband, of course.”  
Hook let out a snort of contempt. “Do your attempts at fantasized fidelity bring you satisfaction?”  
She did not answer soon enough for him and he began squeezing her nipple again.  
“Wench, answer me!” He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Who do you think of when you really want to pleasure yourself?”  
“I have sometimes thought of someone I saw a few years ago. He is an orator and gave a poetry reading.”  
Hook sat bolt upright in shock with a look of sour incredulity on his face. “Someone who calls himself a man, reads poetry for a living?” The contempt was deep in his voice. “Did you offer your sluttish self to him?”  
The shock and hurt in her voice was evident. “No, I did no such thing!”  
“Did you correspond with him?”  
“No, I never had any contact with him, even at the poetry reading. I simply found his countenance pleasing and his voice enthralling. I have no idea what he is actually like.”  
Hook was in an ill humor. “Have you been thinking of him when I have been bedding you?” His hand moved to her throat and his grip was firm. She shook her head, eyes wide. Hook loosened his grip in the slightest amount and queried, “What is his name?”  
“Patrick Rickman.”  
Hook smirked in recognition. “I knew him at Eton. Enough of him though. I wish to watch you pleasure yourself. Don’t try and deceive me with playacting.”  
“No! I will not shame myself before you!” She glared at him, trying to get off the bed quickly.  
Hook was faster than Mrs. Darling and willing to be brutal. He lunged at her, grabbing a thick handful of hair, pulling her back and pinning her down with his weight. Mrs. Darling pushed at him as he swiftly restrained her hands in the manacles. Hook had far more practice at subduing women than Mrs. Darling had at fighting off naked, sweaty, treacherous, lust-filled pirates, so the struggle was over at Hook’s leisure. He usually enjoyed a bit of a tussle with a naked, writhing wench who didn’t know how to fight, and Mrs. Darling was certainly that. Once again, she was bound spread-eagled, and Hook was casually perusing the contents of one of his cabinets while chuckling to himself.  
She saw him approach with the same two lengths of black silk which he had draped over the remnant of his right forearm, and in his left hand he held two tiny cylindrical objects which he displayed to her. She’d never seen anything like them. They looked like small wooden rings, with a dark shiny exterior and a pale interior, perhaps sections sliced from a vine. Hook’s smile grew slowly as he watched her try to puzzle out what they could be. At last he blindfolded and gagged her.  
“Shrimp, I’d say you’ve no idea what these are, so I might tell you as I proceed, but then again, perhaps I shan’t.”  
Mrs. Darling felt him seize her most tender nipple again and she cried out. She felt something being slid down over it and realized it was one of the objects Hook had. It was snug, but not painful. She felt the heat of his mouth upon her, his tongue lightly skimming the tip which peeked out from the open end of the ring. Then the wetness of his mouth engulfed her nipple for a moment before he pulled away. He paused for a few moments, not touching her. She noticed that the ring was somehow tightening.  
She wondered if its interior layer was swelling from Hook’s saliva, pressing inexorably upon the tenderness he had created earlier. He seized her other nipple between his teeth, raking it repeatedly as she moaned and begged for him to stop. She felt him slide the second ring on and take her nipple in his mouth as before. Meanwhile, she could not ignore the sensation caused by the first ring. Her body felt as though her entire consciousness was focused on the tips of her breasts, and more than anything, she wanted to climax. She knew herself well enough that she knew she would only come if she could touch herself. The exquisite burning pleasure of her nipples was heavenly torment, one step away from release. She felt Hook’s tongue, or perhaps the tip of a finger, flick back and forth across the reddened, swollen, exposed ends, and she shrieked and wailed until she finally began to shamelessly beg him to untie her hands so she could pleasure herself. She could feel the wetness between her thighs, and the hot pressure continuing to build within her.  
Her words were muffled by the gag. She felt the blindfold being removed gently and was greeted by the sardonic expression on Hook’s face.  
“Say what, Shrimp? You want to touch yourself? Nooo, I couldn’t let a gentlewoman, a lady, such as yourself violate her own modesty.” Hook ran a finger across her nipples as a loud moan escaped her. He ran his hand lightly across her thighs which still itched and she bucked against his touch. Hook laughed delightedly. “I think those rings are working out quite well. As long as I keep them damp, they’ll continue to squeeze your nipples.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “You disobeyed me in refusing to do my bidding and also in trying to run away.” He paused as she attempted to press her crotch against the hardness of his hand, before continuing, “You have a lot to do in order to redeem yourself.” He abruptly stood, grabbed his clothes, and strode off into his sitting room…


	9. Lunch

She strained her ears to hear the muffled conversation in Hook’s sitting room but couldn’t catch it all.

“That fairy finally brought me what I wanted for myself after so long.”  
“I do recall Cap’n that she did keep on trying. It’s been many years now, she’s been doing the work.”  
“Yes, and kept failing with worse choices all the time. Her excuse was all those women looked alike to her. They often didn’t look like what I wanted her to bring. It was easy enough to get her to think that enticing the mothers here was her own idea – fairies are so susceptible to alcohol, no resistance whatsoever.”  
“Well, some of those women weren’t quite so bad. Your cousin seemed pleased when he picked up the last bunch.”  
“His profit would be decent as always. And while they were on board, for someone like Noodler, they were a dream come true, I’m sure. I think he was getting tired of dipping his cock in his grog to get that fairy to lick it.” Both men snickered.   
“But that mother she brought before Shrimp looked like she could’ve been your long-lost sister, whiskers and all.” Hook paused thoughtfully, “Smee, you can set out a cup of rum for that fairy.”  
“D’you mean a thimble, Cap’n?”  
“A cup, Mr Smee. Do you know the difference between a cup and a thimble?” The tone carried unmistakable menace. He added with a sly grin, “In fact Smee, I want you to use that gold ciborium I stole from a cathedral long ago. An appropriate resting place for bodies I think.”  
Smee shivered at the blasphemous attitude, then spoke cautiously. “Well being that big, she could well drown in it! Do you really intend for that to happen?”  
The soft tone came with a smile. “That fairy has served my purpose and I do not want her to talk. If she dies drunk and happy, that is a far better death than most get from me. Wouldn’t you want your own passing to be pleasant, Mr. Smee?”  
“Your ciborium, Cap’n. I shall fetch it from the galley.” Smee exited hastily.  
Hook strode back in and without a word, undid the shackles that held Mrs Darling’s wrists. The rings on her nipples had dried and he picked them off and dropped them in his pocket. He smiled as he spoke, “Those who lay abed too long, not only miss breakfast, but could miss lunch as well. I’d suggest you get up.”  
Mrs. Darling scooted off the bed and reached for her clothes, but the Captain grabbed her wrist. “Wenches don’t dress for meals; however, I will kindly allow you to briefly wear my dressing gown. It’s in the sitting room where lunch will take place.”  
Mrs. Darling could feel the heat of his breath upon her as he followed her into the next room. She went straight for the robe, bundling it about her and tying it firmly at the waist, before turning to notice the dining table.  
Hook teasingly smirked as he watched her look at the bare table and then questioningly at him. “Will Smee bring us lunch?” Hook nodded silently, keeping his same expression.  
As if summoned up, Smee knocked and entered with a smile, carrying a big tray with several covered serving dishes on it. “Just as you wanted Cap’n. Rare roast..”  
Hook cut him off mid-sentence. “Set the food down and leave us.”  
Smee paused and asked, “Are you sure you don’t want some…”  
“Leave!” Hook bellowed. Smee fled.  
Mrs. Darling realized it was foolish of her to expect that Hook would make the gentlemanly gesture of pulling out her chair, so she began to seat herself. He stepped in back of her, sliding his hand around under the gown and caressed her breast as he inhaled the fragrance of her hair.  
“Ahh, Shrimp. There seems to not be any plates or silverware. I cannot eat my lunch without it being served up on something. I have found though that wenches make excellent dishes. You will, I’m sure, be happy to do what is needed to keep my appetite satisfied – you shall dine afterwards in a similar manner. Would a glass of wine before you start your duties be helpful?”  
Mrs. Darling nodded, mutely accepting the glass and swiftly draining the contents. She allowed Hook to remove the robe and assist her onto the table. He tenderly placed a small pillow under her head before seating himself with the serving dishes nearby.  
She watched in fascinated disbelief as he decorated her upper torso with hot, bite-sized pieces of rare roast beef.  
‘Ahh, yes! Smee does make the smoothest mashed potatoes, I’ve ever had,” Hook chuckled as he dolloped a generous spoonful at the cleft of Mrs. Darling’s thighs. She started in shock as he drizzled warm gravy from her neck down to the mashed potatoes, making a well in it with his tongue, before proceeding to fill it with the gravy.  
He sat back and leered at her for a moment, savoring the sight of his lunch so delightfully arranged, then lowered his mouth upon her. Mrs. Darling was unsure if the wine was making her woozy or if it was the Captain’s oral skills, but by the time he’d finished chasing the last drop of gravy along the inside of her thighs, she was moaning softly and panting. She noted Hook pick a short, dark, curly hair out of his mouth and look at it with disapproval. He twirled it between his fingers and spoke, “I’ll tend to this problem later.”  
Hook thoughtfully wiped her down with a damp, warm cloth and helped her back into his dressing gown. He noted with approval that she did not tie it closed, but let her breasts bob freely exposed to him. He was not disappointed when she began to undress him with an eagerness that would have alarmed George had she ever approached him with such a look in her eye. When Hook was finally naked, she gestured to him to lie on his side. Taking his erection in hand, she grabbed ahold of the gravy boat, dunked him and proceeded to dine with a lascivious enthusiasm that none would have guessed at only days before when she was still the very proper Mrs. George Darling.


	10. Better Grease Up

Mrs. Darling never ceased to be amazed at the creativity and resourcefulness of Smee. Somehow, he had been able to come up with a black velvet corset and robe in her size, which Hook had presented to her, following their roast beef lunch.  
“Come, Shrimp. Now turn around.” Hook held out the corset. The velvet, which was made from silk fibers, caressed her skin warmly as he wrapped it around her. He watched as she laced it closed, with a bemused smile on his face. Before she could reach for the robe, he clasped her shoulder, pressing his mouth against hers, and probing with his tongue. He drew back and leered, “Yes, the gravy was exceptionally good.”  
Mrs. Darling blushed to the roots of her hair and turned away from him. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “You are quite pretty when you blush, but I like you best when you’re rolling in my bed, begging for more of me.” She kept her eyes averted from his as he spoke. He brought her chin up with the back of his hook and kissed her hard before he released her.  
A loud knocking interrupted them. “Cap’n, Pan’s been spotted in the jungle! We think he may be headed to his secret hideaway!”  
Hook straightened his clothes and glared at her. “Behave while I’m gone. You may play the harpsichord to entertain yourself. Don’t pry into things.” He gave a meaningful look towards his cabinets.  
And so, it was in the late afternoon, that Mrs. Darling found herself finally alone in the luxurious, decadent and dangerous quarters of Captain Hook. Her apprehension struggled with her curiosity as she stared at his cabinets, with their numerous small drawers. She recalled which one he had taken the rings from which he had used to such intense effect on her nipples, and wondered what other items lay therein. She knew that she should not pry, and would most certainly earn his wrath if he were to find her disobedient to him, but still…  
Well, the temptation became too much, especially after she had poured herself a glass of his muscat, and followed it with a second. She reasoned that if she were to see what sorts of things were in there before he’d use them on her, then she would have less to worry about when he did. That thought calmed her somewhat, but she could feel her heart jumping in her chest as she opened the nearest cabinet. The drawers in that particular one, with their little brass knobs jutting out, lay ten abreast and thirty high. She started in the upper left corner and pulled the first one open. A pair of metal balls, the size of walnuts, with rounded bumps all over them, was what she found. The second drawer contained a pair of smooth metal balls, somewhat larger than the first pair. The third drawer contained four small covered tins. She gingerly opened them one at a time. They all seemed to be filled with the same slippery substance, sort of a cross between oil and beeswax. The fourth drawer was taken up completely by nine more bumpy metal balls in graduated sizes, ranging from an acorn up to the last which was slightly larger than a golf ball, which had somehow been cleverly strung together on a sturdy piece of round braided black leather cord with a long loop at the end near the largest ball. She pulled it out to get a better look at it, and with a slight slur in her speech from the muscat, wondered aloud as she held it up, “What on earth does one do with such a thing?”  
From behind her, she heard, “I’m so glad you asked, my dear.”  
She dropped it in terror, pressing her other hand to her mouth. Hook kicked the door shut behind him. She could hear his boots on the wood floor, then silenced as he crossed the carpet to where she stood, still unmoving. He reached close by her and pulled open the third drawer. His voice was dark with menace this time. “You dropped my beads. Bend over and pick them up.”  
She slowly bent over and as her hand grasped the mysterious object, Hook flipped up her robe and pinned her over with his weight, slowly running his hand up the side and back of her leg, coming to rest at the base of her bottom. He ran his rough thumb over it, moving more towards the center. “So you want to know, do you? It certainly would expand your horizons, along with something else, I’d daresay.” He laughed maliciously. “Did I not warn you to behave?”  
She couldn’t answer. Her breath came in ragged gasps of fear.  
He ran his thumb along the cleft of her cheeks. “Time for something new – for you at least. Off to the bed, and keep your robe hiked up so I can stare at your sweet arse, because that’s going to be my next port of call.”  
Mrs. Darling’s mind could not quite comprehend what she had thought she had heard Hook say. What she thought she had heard him say was absolutely unthinkable to her. She clutched the beads, kept her robe up and went to the bed; then decided, she must have misunderstood, so she lay down on her back. She spread her legs wide apart, angled towards the doorway, in hopes of placating him. Hook entered the room with one of the tins from the drawer, setting it down on the nightstand. He smiled sardonically at her as he undressed. “I see you have a lot to learn – obedience being prime among your lessons. Did I not make it clear that your bottom is going to be the next hole for my cock?”  
Her eyes widened, “I, I can’t. It’s, it’s not…” Her voice trailed off as she saw the look in his eyes and then she begged in earnest. “Please, no. Please sir, no. No. Not my bottom, noooo.”  
His eyes narrowed as he smirked and stroked her hair in a mockery of tenderness, knowing what he was about to do. “You’ll learn to obey me. If you choose to roll over now, I will enter you gently. If I have to turn you over, I will be brutal.” He added softly and tenderly, as if speaking apologetic words of love, “You’re learning how much that can hurt.” His voice was barely a whisper, “Turn over.”  
Shaking hard and moving slowly, Mrs. Darling turned onto her belly. She felt Hook scoop his arm beneath her, lifting her hips and stuffing a pillow under her, raising her bottom to a height suited to his needs. He pulled her robe off her back with a swift motion and flung it to the floor. She knew he still wore his harness and hook. He ran the point lazily over her backside as a silent warning. She felt Hook reach over and pick up the strand of metal beads she’d taken from the drawer – it seemed so long ago to her when she had decided to look in the cabinet, and she tried to remember why she’d chosen to do so. Her thoughts were jerked into the present by the feel of something slick and cold pressing gently into her bottom. It wasn’t nearly as painful as she had feared. More pressing followed slowly, a second, third, and fourth time.  
She had stopped crying and was gaining a bit of composure when the pressing began again. She gasped and winced as it passed inwards. She tentatively lifted her hand towards her backside.  
“Shrimp.” There was a blend of amusement and warning in his tone which stayed her hand momentarily.  
“Please Captain, don’t put it in any more.”  
She heard the smile in his voice as he replied, “If you can’t take this, you’ll have a dreadful time taking the full length of me. As long as you are compliant, I may go slowly. Rest assured, if you fight you will have pain which I am told is as bad as childbirth, and you will additionally have the wrath of my hook upon you.” He paused and added, “Your ass is mine.” He patted her gently. Her hand dropped back to the bed.  
She felt the sixth well-greased bead pressing in and she began to cry out, panting and mewling.  
His voice was soft and soothing this time. “Hush Shrimp. Relax, shhh. It’ll be fine. Good girl. That one’s in now. Just three more.”  
She turned her head back to try and see him, to reason with him, to get him to understand that this would be too much. When she saw the smirk on his face, she knew it was hopeless and turned back to the mattress, emitting a wail of frustration, more than of pain, as the seventh bead came to rest inside her. He gently rubbed her bottom for a moment and in the quiet moment when he paused, she hoped he was putting more grease on the last two balls. Hook spoke, his voice heavy with feigned sorrow, “Alas Shrimp! I seem to have run out of grease for these last two beads. As I am a man who completes whatever task he sets out to do, I have no choice but to push these in without any lubrication for your fine ass.”  
“Please Captain, I know there are more tins of grease in that drawer. Please get another one, please!”  
“Oh, so you looked in more than one drawer in my cabinet! Here I thought you had disobeyed me just once by finding the beads, but it seems that you have done a bit more prying than that! Did I not make it clear what I do to those who disobey me? Especially repeatedly disobeying me?”  
“Please no. Do not hurt me even more! I was wrong to do that. I am so sorry.”  
Hook grinned wickedly and shamelessly behind her back as he jammed his thumb against the eighth bead, sending it swiftly through the tight, throbbing tunnel. This time, Mrs Darling’s wail was from pain and Hook could tell the difference. When she had quieted, he spoke again, “How many drawers did you open?”  
“I, I am not sure, but I think it may have been four.”  
“Four?!” Hook’s voice dropped to a whisper with that word. He knew the tone of his voice, the pitch, the inflection, could chill the hearts of bold pirates and he had no doubt what it was doing to the already terrified Mrs Darling.  
She noted he did nothing for several moments and she again turned her head to see him. He saw her movement and spoke. “I am contemplating the deliciousness of what I am soon about to have – my cock in your ass which has never had a cock inside it before. I must say that the most beautiful woman in the world is whichever one has my cock in her mouth, but whichever one has my cock in her bottom is a damned close second. And especially when it’s her first time. Shrimp, you’re going to make me very happy. First, these beads need to be removed. Relax before I pull and you might enjoy the sensation.”  
Hook tugged, Mrs. Darling screamed, and out on deck, Smee – who knew Hook’s behaviors—winced and thought about finding another line of work.  
Mrs. Darling tried to turn away, but Hook was already well-greased and amply ready. He had already pinned her legs apart with his. Now, he lunged forward and held her arms down. She could feel him rubbing himself against her and she hysterically attempted to get away, but found she was held fast in his sweaty embrace.  
“Calm down. Don’t fight me. Shhh, Shrimp. Just relax and I’ll go slowly. Don’t fight me. Mmmm. There, there, shhh.”  
She forced herself to go as limp as possible.  
“Good Pet. Yesss. There we go.”  
As soon as she felt the tip pressing into her, she began struggling out of panic again, recalling how much bigger Hook was than George and that even George was as thick as a walnut.  
She begged and wept and wailed as he slowly ground into her bottom. He moaned loudly as he slid his full, swollen length into her, which only heightened her fear. Then she felt him pulling out, only to once again slowly push into her. He slid his hand under her hips, his still-slick fingers sliding down to find the tender nub where he lightly rubbed, making delicate circles on it. With his other arm he pinned her hip and began sliding back and forth as she continued to shriek and beg and weep hoarsely into the pillow. He continued for a few exquisitely slow strokes before speaking. Her body was spasming in pain and shaking with fear and cries, and he let himself focus for some moments on the heady blend of sensations produced by the woman beneath him before he stopped moving. Her tearful sobs of pain and fear, combined with her tight, spasming heat were intoxicating for him. He nipped her shoulder and nibbled on her neck as he held her tightly.  
“Oh God, Shrimp, you’re so sweet. I’ve got to go slow, or I’ll blow my load as quick as a schoolboy. I want this to last forever.”  
Hook’s words were little consolation to Mrs. Darling who wanted nothing more than for him to be done using her. He went slowly for dozens more strokes, but eventually his rhythm began to gain a more typical speed. Panting, he snarled in her ear, “My wench likes this, doesn’t she?”  
Mrs. Darling recalled his words of warning during their first coupling, replied with a tearful, “Yes.”  
Hook began gasping in earnest, grinding his teeth, and grunting like a beast as he climaxed.  
They lay tangled together for some time before Hook slowly rolled onto his side. He grinned at her. “Shrimp, you really should take a bath. You smell as if you’ve been fucking in a most foul and deviant manner. You might want to use the chamberpot first though.”  
As much as Mrs. Darling wanted to slap him, she recognized her critical need at the moment was indeed for the chamberpot. Blushing and weeping, she sat on it as Hook laughed at her, for despite his forays into gentleness, truly he was a cruel man.


	11. Personal Thoughts

Hook had put on a robe and had Smee set up a hot bath for Mrs. Darling to soak in. “I’ll let you have it to yourself, Shrimp. You look like you need it.” She turned away from his stare as she undid the lacings on the corset. He spoke quietly and sharply, “Turn around. You still have this stupid notion that you are allowed to be modest around me. Perhaps this is the time to deal with it.”  
Mrs. Darling turned slowly, staring at floor and began unlacing the corset. She let it fall to the floor as tears rolled down her cheeks. She noticed him get up from the bed and approach her as she stood there silently. He took her hand and guided her to the tub, holding her hand as she stepped in. The water’s heat on her tender bottom made her gasp and it took some moments before she was able to bring herself to get all the way into the water. Hook sat on an ottoman next to the tub with an amused expression on his face. He grabbed the sponge and after dunking it in, wiped away his sweat and fallen chest hairs from her back. She shivered at his touch.  
“How does your bottom feel, Shrimp?”  
“It aches a lot and stings a bit.” She glared at him.  
“Good.” He stared back coldly. “You should be very appreciative that I took the time and effort I did to prepare you. If I hadn’t, your arse certainly would’ve torn. You've had children -- did your cunny ever tear giving birth?” She nodded silently, queasy with the memory, wondering how he knew so many intimacies of women's bodies. He raised an eyebrow at her, “If you doubt how kindly I’ve treated you, I’ll have a go at your arse without all that effort. I sometimes get the sense that you really don’t understand just how bad things could be for you. I’m realizing I’ve been much too indulgent.” Hook paused, slowly enjoying the sight of her wet, naked form as she sat in the tub at his feet, before continuing. “That corset I gave you is quite becoming. I’ll have to ask Smee what became of the black velvet collar that matches it.”  
Her eyes widened noticeably.  
Hook gave a small smile. “Yes, the corset and robe have a matching collar. Their original owner decided to try and escape. She didn’t get far. Fortunately, another ship had come to Neverland to trade with us, so I made a fair profit on her instead of having to kill her. If I get tired of you, that’s likely what I’d do at this point. I can’t think of any of my business associates you’d probably want to meet. They’re so barbaric in their own ways. There’s only one other gentleman among them and that would be my cousin.” Hook ran his tongue across his bottom lip and brushed the sponge across her breasts in a slow, deliberate manner as he stared in her eyes. “You’re the comeliest I’ve had and you’d fetch a hefty price on the auction block. Perhaps you should put more effort into pleasing me so you don’t end up there. Hmmm?” He pursed his lips and tilted his head and his eyes glittered darkly as he drank in the fear she radiated. “Then again, Shrimp, you might surprise me and be the adventurous sort – you might enjoy spending the rest of your days chained to the wall of a whorehouse in Shanghai, with a dozen different men using you every night in ways you cannot possibly imagine -- although you did get a small taste just now.” He paused for effect. “Hmmm? Would that be to your liking? It can be arranged. I know the owner of such an establishment who would be very happy to add you to his stable of whores even though you are quite old for such a use.”  
Mrs. Darling held her hands over her mouth in an effort to not vomit, so sickened was she both at the scenario Hook painted, and the enjoyment he derived from its telling. She wondered if there was any limit to his wickedness, and then decided there wasn’t.  
Apparently however, the wide world of Hook’s acquaintance was filled with those as depraved as he.  
“What do you want me to do?” she asked softly, looking up at him from her bath. Hook smiled. To a casual observer, it would have appeared to be a benevolent smile, but Mrs. Darling was learning to read Hook’s nuances as if her life depended on it.  
Hook nodded in the direction of the bed and Mrs. Darling was prompt in getting up, grabbing the towel set out for her, and heading to the bed. Hook smirked. “Shrimp, we had a bit of discussion earlier about you pleasuring yourself, that was not resolved satisfactorily. I want you to not only show me, but also tell me what you are thinking of as you do it.”  
She nodded and lay back against the heap of pillows. Her hand pressed against her sex, the curls still damp from the bath. Hook removed his clothing and rested alongside her, watching her face intently. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself.  
“I, I have thought at times that making love outdoors could be very exciting. Not with others around, of course. But if the weather was mild and the spot was secluded – well, that is the setting that I most often think about. Perhaps near a brook, there’s something romantic about the sound of running water.” Hook rolled his eyes. She opened her eyes to stare at Hook, “Mind you, of course, I never have actually done such a thing. It’s not proper! George would never…” She closed her eyes before resuming and missed the sight of Hook biting his lower lip in an attempt to stifle laughter. “Well, we’d be outdoors -- you and I -- we’d have our clothes on of course, and there would be a lovely mossy spot and you’d gently lay me down on a blanket. You’d hold me and kiss me…”  
Hook interrupted her by lightly running his mouth along her neck. He noted her fingers finally started to move instead of just resting between her thighs.  
“Ohhh, yes. And you’d undress me slowly and keep kissing me…”  
Hook’s mouth traveled down to her breast and he began lightly nipping it.  
“And then I’d undo your breeches and take you out and taste you.”  
Mrs. Darling’s unoccupied hand groped for and found what she was speaking of, and she gripped him hard, rubbing up and down.  
“And then, you’d want to get on me…”  
Her slickened fingers moved faster on herself and she had trouble continuing.  
“And I’d -- want you -- so much -- to be -- inside me -- hard – fast – in me. Oh, God! James!”  
She half opened her eyes in a plea, to which he was willing to give in. He plunged hotly between her legs and she embraced him tightly, arms and legs wrapped around him, grinding herself against him as she moaned into his shoulder.  
After several minutes, he paused in his action, keeping himself inside her, and cradled her head in his hand. He spoke softly, “Open your eyes, Shrimp.”  
Her gaze was unfocused, “Mmm?”  
“You must learn to be obedient. You haven’t been thus far so I shall have to punish you, but I’ll tend to that later. Some equipment will be required which I do not have on board.” He began moving slowly in and out. “Will you serve me and provide me pleasure as I require?”  
“Yes.”  
He slammed into her again and again, then paused, panting, “Will you do all I tell you to?”  
“Yes.”  
He resumed with great vigor and enthusiasm. Mrs. Darling entirely lost track of what she was doing and without even realizing it, she had gouged Hook’s back. She had certainly never scratched George; there was never any risk of her sensibilities being overwhelmed with passion when in his embraces, either vertical or horizontal.  
Hook gasped sharply and swiftly pinned her hands down with his one before continuing. He noted she was barely aware of anything and he built up to an excellent climax, shuddering and grinding into her, as she continued to moan, sometimes managing to incoherently call his name.  
He rolled off when he’d come and lay next to her. She curled into him, the heat of his body prolonging her pleasurable state.  
They dozed together and Mrs. Darling awoke first. He felt her stir and opened his eyes. She was using the chamberpot. When she had finished and turned towards him, he rolled towards her. She looked at him, puzzled.  
“That’s odd. The sheet seems stuck to your back.” She leaned to him and pulled it away.  
Hook caught his breath and Mrs. Darling’s eyes widened as she spoke. “There’s blood on the sheet! What happened?”  
Hook laughed and turned more, showed his streaked back. “You clawed me when I was fucking you! Don’t look so worried. It’s not something I’d punish a wench for if it’s done honestly. It’s a bit of a compliment to a man.” His expression changed. “A compliment I’m sure you’ve never given your husband,” he sneered at her, “Have you?”  
A knock at the door interrupted them.


	12. The Black Castle

The interruption did not last long. Hook answered the door and after a few moments of muttered conversation with Smee, closed it and returned.  
“Put these on,” he said, tossing a bundle of clothes to Mrs. Darling, “We’re going out.”  
“Out? Wh..” She saw the look on his face and the question fell to silence on her lips.  
She dressed quickly, pulling on the trousers and shirt over the velvet corset, then tugged on the boots. Hook motioned her to turn around facing the bed, and stepping behind her, tied a blindfold over her eyes. He seized her by the arm forcefully and guided her out of the cabin and into his palanquin which was then placed in a small boat which was rowed ashore. Mrs. Darling had no idea where they were going, but she could certainly feel Hook pressed against her, his calloused hand inside her shirt, caressing her, as they were carried along when finally on land. Presently, she felt as if they were being carried up an incline, eventually coming to a halt. Hook took her arm and guided her out so she could stand. The well-secured blindfold allowed no clue for her as to her whereabouts. She could hear the distinctive crackling of a fire, as well as feel its warmth. He removed his own jacket and shirt before undressing her slowly and completely, caressing her, kissing her body tenderly as he undid each button and lacing with care. She could hear him softly groaning as he removed her clothing. He then gently trailed his hook all across her body as a reminder to her of his dominance over her, as she stood there silently. He guided her over a short distance and abruptly spoke, “Sit.”  
She reached out to each side, groping for chair arms and finding leathery straps instead. She stumbled as Hook unexpectedly shoved her backwards, and she gasped as she landed in what felt like a net. She swayed uncertainly in it, her bottom hanging through a large gap, as she felt Hook grab each ankle and pull up, fastening her feet wide apart, securely to the net.  
As fearful as she was, Mrs. Darling knew better than to pull off the blindfold. She felt Hook seize and attach each of her wrists in turn, effectively positioning her spread-eagled in the woven leather swing which swayed gently. Then, she felt straps being fastened across each of her thighs, another one across her waist, followed by yet another across her chest from one armpit to the other, binding her in place. Something swished several times alongside her ear.  
Hook’s voice was crooning, teasing, maliciously delighted. “Do tell me Shrimp, have you ever been caned?”  
“N-no.”  
“Whipped perhaps – on your arse or elsewhere?”  
“No!”  
“Have you been spanked barehanded – as an adult? I’m sure you must have as a naughty little girl.”  
“No!!”  
“Has anyone ever used a paddle on that sweet bottom of yours? Perhaps your husband? Has he used a stout oak paddle with little holes drilled through it, on that creamy white skin?” At that, Hook laughed and Mrs. Darling’s stomach coiled into a knot.  
Her answer was barely audible, “No. Please don’t hurt me.”  
Hook sighed loudly as he replied, “I’ve told you the disobedience you’ve engaged in earlier would have consequences. If I don’t punish you, you’ll have no respect for me. My threats will have no credibility because you’ll think you can do whatever you want and ignore me. I can’t have that, Shrimp. You must learn to respect the one who’s in charge.” His voice became steely as he slowly spoke, “You are mine. Every bit of your flesh is under my control – I’ll bloody you, I’ll break you if I have to.” His voice dropped to a whisper as he leaned over and hissed in her ear, “I’ll sell you if I wish.” He roughly thrust two fingers inside her, making her moan and try to twist away. He toyed with her for some minutes, and then suddenly pulled out. Mrs. Darling heard chain links clinking against one another and realized her legs were being raised up, so her hips were a bit higher than her head. She felt Hook’s rough hand stroke her bottom which protruded through the seat hole. She could feel his hot breath, then his whiskers, as he brought his mouth to her backside and began nipping at it. She shrieked at the feel of his teeth upon her and writhed in what little amount her bindings allowed.  
She could hear the laughter in his voice, “Since I am a gentleman, I will allow you to choose the instrument of your punishment.” He spoke crisply, “Cane, whip, paddle, or my hand? I’ll warn you, don’t dawdle – it angers me.”  
“H- hand.”  
Hook’s tone was mocking, “And what should you say when you ask someone for something? What’s the polite word, hmm? You’re a mother, you should know the answer.”  
“Pl- please, spank me with your hand?”  
“Not quite good enough.” Hook made his voice especially harsh, even as he grinned.  
“Please Captain, I request you to spank my bottom with your hand.”  
“Better, but still not quite good enough. I’ll give you one more chance before I have to include more punishment than what I’ve already planned.”  
“Please sir, I have been disobedient, and for my punishment I humbly and sincerely ask you to please spank my bottom with your bare hand as hard as you deem it necessary for my correction. I beg this of you please.”  
“Very good! So well spoken, I’ll give you yet another choice – since I am a gentleman. Would you prefer to be spanked in this position, or would you prefer to be laid down across my lap? Do realize Shrimp, that I can rotate the net so I don’t have to free you from it. It’s cleverly set up on an arrangement of levers and pulleys which Smee devised, so I can comfortably sit here and reposition you as I wish.”  
Mrs. Darling was unaccustomed to being in such an exotic, unladylike position as having her legs up in the air and spread wide apart, so she was quick with her decision. “Please Captain, I wish nothing else but than to be laid across your lap for my punishment.”  
It was only a minute later that Mrs. Darling, still blindfolded, spread-eagled and well-secured to the leather net, came to rest facedown across Hook’s lap. She could feel the hardness of his cock pressing against her through his breeches.  
“Such a delicious sight you are! You have such delicate skin, and not only on your bottom -- your entire body is so lovely.” He inhaled deeply and sighed, then muttered, “No, I don’t think I’ll wait.” More clinking of chains and movement of Mrs. Darling ensued. She was very aware that she was now positioned so her head was pointed towards his feet with her thighs spread around his hips. She felt him unbutton his trousers, then nudge the head of his cock into her slit. He elevated her head a bit and she felt him enter more deeply with the change of angles.  
He chuckled. “Ahh, yesss. My favorite position for spanking a wench! Your sweet bottom is perfectly positioned and of course, so is your cunny, so I can feel just how well you are receiving your richly-deserved punishment. I will warn you, I have things at hand which I can use to inflict additional pain on both your bottom and cunny, if need be. I’m not at all surprised to find that you are extraordinarily slippery. You do realize how very wet you are, don’t you?”  
Her slowness to reply angered Hook who smacked her bottom. She cried out in pain and shock.  
“Wench,” Hook’s voice was filled with menace, “when I ask you, you will reply swiftly and not keep me waiting. Answer my question!”  
“I, I am sorry Captain, but I can’t remember what you asked me.”  
“I asked you if you realize how wet your cunny is.”  
“No, no sir I wasn’t, er, am not aware of that.”  
Hook slid his hand onto her clit, rubbing it gently as he spoke reprovingly, “You do realize that only a tart, a wanton, a slut, would get so juicy under these circumstances. Certainly not a decent and modest lady – she’d be dry. So you know what you are then?”  
“Y-yes sir.”  
“Tell me.”  
“I am a tart.”  
He snorted contemptuously, “Hmmph, I think tarts and wantons are much more flirtatious and eager than I’ve found you to be. What else might you be?”  
She gritted her teeth at the sarcastic tone of his voice and the humiliation he was causing her, but she knew how she’d best answer. “A slut,” she murmured shamefully.  
“Whose slut are you?”  
“Yours, Captain. I belong to you,” was her whispered reply.  
“Tell me more and use the lewd words.”  
“I am your slut and my cunny gets juicy only for you. I want you to, to fuck me with your hard cock in my cunny or b-bottom. I belong to you, Captain Hook.”  
His hand came up, and a second smack, harder than the first, caused her to wail.  
“You’re quite responsive, Shrimp. Each time I land a blow to your pretty arse, your muscles clench up when you flinch and it squeezes my cock most pleasingly.” At that, Hook began spanking Mrs. Darling with vigor and enthusiasm. She begged and sobbed and pleaded with him to no avail. The Captain nudged the swing forwards and back with his hook, watching as his swollen cock disappeared into her, and re-emerged, slickly gleaming with her juices, timing his blows so he was inside at each one.  
Hook finally tired of his sport and paused. Without saying a word to the weeping woman, he turned the swing so that her head was now poised over his lap. He removed the blindfold. Her eyes were teary and her nose was runny. He grabbed her chin and pulled her face up saying, “It’s time for you to practice your sucking skills, my pet. Open your mouth. Keep in mind most importantly, that I want you to swallow my seed when I release it. If you don't swallow it, I guarantee there will be most severe punishment.” He took his hardness in hand, tugging the swing with his hook once again, and used her mouth as he had used her other end. He slowed a bit when she gagged badly, but did not stop until finally when he knew he was about to come, holding her in place, shooting his come down her throat, groaning ecstatically.  
Hook leaned back in his chair, surveying the mess that Mrs. Darling had become. He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped her eyes gently. “Shrimp, I think you need to be cleaned up again – you’re quite unkempt.”  
If looks could’ve killed, Hook would certainly have become a small pile of dust at that moment.  
He smiled arrogantly at her in silent reply and began the process of freeing her from the swing. The fire blazed cheerfully as she looked around noting several cabinets, identical to those on the ship. The large room was decorated as sumptuously as his quarters on the Jolly Roger. Tapestries of erotic classical tales hung on the walls along with some life-sized paintings depicting beautiful naked women displaying their charms in very frank poses, and charmingly exotic couples in positions she had never imagined. There was a bookcase containing several large tomes which appeared to contain more erotic art. Two other large objects, which she did not recognize and stared at in bewilderment, stood in the room. One wall, the one closest to where Hook had her, was simply covered in mirrors.  
“Admiring the horses?” Hook smirked.  
“The what?”  
“The horses – those two wooden frames that look rather like ladders with rings along the sides. They’re used for tying unruly wenches to, in order to cane them. Such devices allow for more precise strokes than the swing does. I haven’t had the pleasure of caning a wench for quite awhile. It’s a skill that needs to be practiced in order to be maintained. Next time you misbehave, I’ll not give you a choice of punishments.” His nostrils flared as he grinned wickedly at her and pinched her nearest nipple.  
She was shaking as he helped her to stand and he guided her across the stone floor, across a massive carpet with a pattern of frolicking nymphs, towards an open door. As they approached, she could see it led to a smaller room, one corner of which was a grotto. He guided her into the dimly-lit room where she also saw yet another cabinet and a bed which was even larger than the one in his ship’s quarters.  
Hook spoke, “Neverland has some hot springs and pools. When this place – the Black Castle—was built, whoever constructed it was clever enough to incorporate one of them into the building. The water flows in and goes out at a steady rate and the temperature is very pleasantly warm. This pool is my second favorite place on the island.” Hook smiled as he raked his fingers into her hair, turning her face to his, “You just saw my favorite.” His smile became a smirk, “We’ll be spending more time together there. There are so many things to do with you, my beauty.”


	13. An Informative Soak

Although the water in the pool was only a bit warmer than body temperature, Mrs. Darling found that her bottom was too tender to submerge, so she stayed standing halfway down the steps, as Hook settled into the water after removing the rest of his clothes and his harness. He groaned sensuously as he sank in up to his chest, then beckoned her to him.  
“I -- it hurts -- please no,” she looked pleadingly at him.  
Hook sneered, “Your pretty pink arse hurts?”  
“Yes. And truly the water makes it feel on fire, so please, I don’t wish to get in any deeper.”  
Hook sighed. “I thought you were through being disobedient, but now I see I’ll have to punish you some more. Obviously, the threat of a caning is no dissuasion at all for you, so I will have to be much more harsh.” He stared at her and licked his lower lip thoughtfully.  
Hook chuckled as Mrs. Darling immediately came further down the steps into the water in obvious pain, clutching her bottom. She walked over to him and he slipped his arms around her, pinning her hands against her body, leaning her back against the wall and resting his weight against her. He looked into her eyes with solemn sorrow, “Ahh Shrimp, what am I ever going to do with you?” He allowed a long pause, and then continued, “There are so many choices of punishments.” He burst into hearty, chilling laughter.  
She panicked and tried pulling away, but he sank his teeth against the side of her neck, biting ‘til he nearly broke her skin and continued to chuckle as she writhed in his arms.  
“Let go! You animal! Let go! Stop! Don’t hurt me! You brutal beast!”  
Her protests and pleas only served to amuse and arouse him. Her struggle went on for many minutes until she was exhausted, but with the position he had her in, combined with his strength, it was for Hook, nothing more than a pleasurable interlude of her writhing against his body and no struggle at all. When she had quieted, he spoke sarcastically, “Shrimp, I simply wanted to enjoy a pleasant soak here with you; however, it seems that no matter what I try, you are dismayed and upset by it. Therefore, I shall do entirely as I please with you. But we shall continue to soak here for awhile. Grab that sponge and rinse my back. I worked up a bit of a sweat in my efforts at your chastisement – efforts which obviously came to naught since you so readily continue to defy me.” His eyes narrowed with displeasure as he released her.  
Mrs. Darling was more than relieved to wash the Captain’s back, feeling some comfort in not being glared at. Her bottom still ached, within and without, and as she moved the sponge across his skin, she wondered what else he could possibly do to her that would be “much more harsh.”  
Thoughts of ‘harsh’ punishments led her thoughts to a related topic. “Captain, you mentioned your cousin, a former banker turned pirate. The papers called him “The Butcher.” You and he are not really in touch are you?”  
Hook’s back shook with silent laughter at the fear in her voice as he replied, “Yes, of course. Perhaps I’ll have the chance to introduce you to him. It’s true that he’s still as handsome as he is brutal. I’m sure he remembers you. I know he’d fancy you and probably make a substantial offer to buy you – or at least rent you for a night.” He smiled as he heard her gasp.  
“No. Please don’t. George and I were at a dinner party that he was at about 6 or 7 years ago. He was on the Board of Directors at the bank where George worked. I’d be too afraid to meet him now. I’ve heard the scandals. The one about his neighbor’s daughter on the night before her wedding. And several others as well in the double life he led before he was found out and had to go on the run!”  
Hook grinned as he replied, “Gossip isn’t often accurate. Probably what you’ve heard isn’t nearly as dreadful as the whole truth.”  
“The papers said that he is your cousin and you attended Eton together.”  
“True.”  
“The papers also said that he had his fortune told when he was young and the fortune-teller was so frightened of him afterwards she committed suicide.”  
“Somewhat true. When we were about 17 we went together and found a fortune-teller. She told me my fortune first. I was told among other things that I would, ‘have the darling wife.’ I just thought her English was poor.”  
“What else did the fortune-teller say?”  
“Nothing else that I will tell you now. I will say that the fortune-teller’s death only appeared to be a suicide. He did not want her to be able to tell anyone else what she saw in her crystal ball.”  
Her voice dropped to almost a whisper, “Then it’s true he’s been responsible for so many women disappearing? They were mostly mothers who vanished without a trace. Scotland Yard has been searching for years for bits of them. Has he murdered them all?”  
Hook laughed aloud. “Rarely murder, probably less than a dozen. He’s made a fortune from women’s bodies and had a great deal of pleasure doing it. He’s done quite well for himself. Respectable ladies from London sold off to whorehouses of the worst sort in lands where English is not spoken. Virtually untraceable."  
Her voice resonated with fear. “I don’t wish to meet him, even with you there to protect me. You wouldn’t actually let him…”  
His voice was sharp and harsh, “I’ll do with you as it suits me. You still seem to cling to some idea that you can manipulate me into doing or not doing things according to what your choice in the matter would be. The extent of your interaction with him will be based solely on whatever agreement he and I arrive at. If we agree that he should use you, even strip and tie you to Long Tom in full view of everyone before using you in whatever manner he chooses, then that’s what you will get. If we take turns with you, that’s what you shall get.” He paused and growled, “And be very glad that your bottom has already had a cock – he never prepares his wenches – he likes to hear them scream.”  
Hook had tired of this conversation. He turned around and embraced her. She could feel his breath in her ear as he whispered smoothly, “I think I know what it may take to get you to obey me.”  
“I do obey you! Please don’t hurt me more.” She stared pleadingly at him.  
“Your reticence to enter the water when I wanted you to was willfully disobedient. You knew what I wanted you to do and you did not do it when I wanted you to. You continue to show you need to be disciplined. I can’t imagine what sort of merry chase you led your husband on, but I assure you, I will not be made a fool of.” Hook’s fierce glare made Mrs. Darling tremble, and his mention of her beloved George made her homesick in the worst way so that she began crying.  
“I miss George so much,” she sniffled. “He is good and kind and gentle. He isn’t wealthy and he never went to Eton, but he, he is a gentleman. He is a trusted employee where he works. You -- you’re a pirate!” She glared at Hook.  
Hook smirked and shrugged at her impotent anger and frustration, which only further upset her.  
She had no idea how much he enjoyed provoking her, pushing her into action despite her great fear of him. He loved to manipulate not only her flesh, but her emotions as well, for he knew she could do him no harm, even in her greatest wrath. She was his toy and he derived great amusement from all aspects of her.  
“So tell me Shrimp, did your pathetic George at least attend a public school?”  
“He attended a private school.”  
“So he didn’t come from a better family? How on earth did he end up with you -- you are most certainly a thoroughbred.”  
Mrs Darling paused for a moment before she began to reply. Hook, who was well-trained to recognize attempts by others to deceive him, realized she was trying to think of an evasion of the truth.  
“George…”  
Hook interrupted her. “George had to marry you didn’t he?”  
She stared, horror-struck that he somehow knew what was never spoken of. Hook watched at her, gauging what to say next. “So, were you caught in the act, or were you with child already? Ahh, I think you and Georgie boy must have been caught doing something very naughty and your parents felt it best to get you married off quick before you started to show a large belly.” He paused and thought a bit longer. “Your father must be a bank manager, and procured your pathetic husband a position. Am I correct?”  
She was so mortified that she could not even speak, but nodded mutely.  
“And let me guess, Shrimp, but Georgie boy did not have to even try to seduce you, you were so much more than willing.”  
Mrs Darling burst into tears.  
“And you were not going to answer me honestly, were you?” Hook paused and added, “You do know what that has earned you don’t you?”  
She sobbed even harder in both shame and fear.  
“It’s time for you to be punished again. Perhaps this time you will learn to be swift in your obedience to me.” He tilted his head back a bit and stared arrogantly at her. “Then again, Shrimp, perhaps there is something else to be done with you first.” He grinned suggestively at her. “Get out and we can dry off in the other room by the fire. Gather up my clothes and take them along.”  
She moved swiftly and he was not far behind.  
She noticed the fire seemed to have more wood on it and she mentioned that to Hook who smiled gently. “Yes, no doubt Smee has taken care of the fire. He’s only a shout away if I need anything.”  
“He can’t see us from where he is, can he?” asked Mrs. Darling as she clasped her hands over her breasts.  
Hook smirked and gave no reply, brusquely saying instead, “Dry me off with that towel, then dry yourself as well. When you’ve done that, go lie back in the swing. You’re still a bit unkempt for my taste. I think you need a bit more grooming.”  
As she complied, she wondered frantically what he was going to do – brush her hair, trim her nails,  
sand off the calluses on her heels – what?  
Hook smiled down at her as he strapped her in place, exactly as before. She could see him going over to one of the cabinets, pulling open a drawer and removing a package that was wrapped in waxed paper. He waved it under her nose. It smelled pleasantly sweet, and she looked at him with puzzlement. He unwrapped it and smirked. It looked to be about the color of honey, but had a semi-firm consistency. Hook spoke, “I take it you’re not familiar with Egyptian sugar-wax?”  
Mrs. Darling shook her head.  
Hook snickered. “They call it halawa. It’s used by ladies of that area to remove unwanted body hair. It sticks to the hair and when tugged away, pulls the hair out – by the roots.”  
Mrs. Darling’s eyes got wide at that last bit of information. “Doesn’t that hurt? Pulling it out by the roots?”  
Hook chortled.  
Then he began.  
In the next room, Smee winced at the shrieks and decided that he really should’ve listened to his mother who wanted him to become a blacksmith.  
When Hook concluded his task, which he performed at a leisurely pace, taking the time to enjoy delivering torment that Mrs Darling had never imagined existed, the wax ball was hairy, Mrs. Darling was in pain, and Hook was satisfied with how smooth he’d gotten her. He lightly ran his fingertips over her mons, then knelt and buried his whiskery face between her thighs. The combination of pleasure and pain on her most tender area – not that her legs and armpits weren’t tingling too – was exquisitely confusing to her senses.  
She gasped and moaned and shrieked and shuddered at the sensations. Eventually, Hook sat back on his haunches and simply stared. She lifted her head a bit and saw him looking at her most intimate area, knowing it no longer even had the little concealment that her pubic hair had provided. He looked up a bit and leered, then ran his tongue slowly, thoughtfully, around his lips before speaking. “Mmm, tastes like Shrimp!” He got up, bent over her and kissed her full on the mouth, thrusting his tongue in, lingering as she unsuccessfully tried to turn her head away. When he was done, he stood up and spoke. “Shrimp, I am undecided as to whether you could become more obedient through the application of more pain or more humiliation. Either choice will have a component of the other, but to a smaller degree.” He stared at her awhile. “I am a gentleman, so I will give you that choice.”


	14. 52-Card Wench

She lay strapped to the swing, her mind fluttering with the effort of which choice to make – pain, likely worse than anything he’d yet done, or humiliation. She had some time to decide as he put his clothes and hook on. She swallowed and spoke, “Not the pain.”  
He smiled down at her and spoke softly, “Then you know what to ask for, and just as importantly, you know how to ask for it.”  
Her voice was barely audible as she replied, “Please Captain, I have disobeyed you,” she paused trying to make the words come, “and for my punishment I humbly beg of you that you humiliate me in whatever way you see fit.”  
She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears, trying to read his reaction to her words, but had no luck as he abruptly pivoted on his heel and went to the cabinet where he withdrew 2 decks of cards.  
“Mr. Smee!” he bellowed. Smee promptly appeared. Hook grinned, “You’re in luck. No, actually the whole crew is in luck. Have them come on in. She’s decided she’d like to play a game of 52-card Wench!”  
Smee scurried, Hook smirked and Mrs. Darling shivered.  
“Captain – what do you mean by ’52-card Wench’?”  
Hook gave no reply, instead running his fingers between her inner lips, spreading them open, then licking his fingers.  
Half-formed thoughts of unthinkable things went through her mind.  
The room suddenly was filled with pirates who tried to sneak glances at Mrs. Darling, but were obviously fearful that Hook would not approve. Noodler’s knuckles were white as he clutched his hat and tried to not moan. Hook nodded to Smee who made the announcement.  
“Brutes! The Captain has arranged for a game of 52-card Wench! Each man will step up and take one card from the deck I’ll hold. If there are more than 52 men, including myself, the remaining men can pair up with anyone who has already taken a card and you’ll each get a full share of the prize. If there are less than 52 of us, the leftover cards will be kept by the Captain. So line up and take one, and only one card. After this deck has been drawn from, then the lady will pick a card at random from the second deck which our captain is holding. If the card she draws matches one the Captain holds, he will have her draw until the card she picks matches one that any of us brutes may hold. The pirate with the card that matches the one she’s drawn gets her for one hour immediately starting at that time, to use as he wills. Line up now and pick your card!” Smee shuffled the deck of cards as the pirates formed a single line.  
Mrs. Darling was wishing the ground would open up and swallow her, then decided she’d rather it would open up and swallow Hook and his entire crew. The men were no longer shy about staring at her. The swing held her wide open for viewing with nothing left to the imagination. Hook stood between her legs and fondled her as the pirates stepped up to Smee, each taking a card. Mrs. Darling turned her face away, squeezing her eyes shut.  
When each crew member had a card, Hook spoke. “I’ll remind you that who wins will have one hour exactly from the time the wench draws a card. We will go by the clock on the wall.” As he pointed towards the timepiece with his hook, the crew turned towards it as one and stared at it as if it were magical. Hook continued, “You will not be permitted to inflict any damage on her such as broken bones, blackened eyes or loosened teeth! Any kind of sex is fine. I’ll be staying here to keep an eye on what’s being done. I’d recommend you leave her in the swing – it’s set at a height for a good hard fuck in her cunny, arse or mouth! Hell, brutes, you can even try all three holes in whatever order you'd want!” The pirates cheered raucously. Hook spoke again, “Just so there is no question in anyone’s mind about this, I want the wench to make her request just as she did a few moments ago when we were alone.”  
Somehow she managed to choke out the words, “Pl, please Captain, I have disobeyed you, and I beg you punish me in whatever way you wish.”  
“Wench, your type of punishment is very specific – you didn’t mention that. You might get pain if you leave the choice to me. And open your eyes and look at me when you address me.”  
“P, p, please sir, I have been wicked and I beg you to punish me by hu, humiliating and shaming me, however you wish to, pl, please.” Tears streamed down her face  
Hook sneered at the stricken woman, “Shrimp! Time for you to pick a card.” He fanned out the deck and held it near her hand. She gazed at him, silently pleading, but saw the look of sadistic joy on his face and sorrowfully pulled a card. Hook took it from her and held it up for all to see. “Eight of spades!”  
Noodler made a loud noise somewhere between a moan and a shriek before he passed out, striking his head abruptly on the stone floor. His eight of spades fluttered down, landing face up on Hook’s boot. Hook chortled and shrugged, “Dismissed.” Smee herded out the remainder of the rubbernecking crew, leaving behind a smirking Hook, a sorrowful Mrs. Darling, and a very silent Noodler.  
Hook spoke softly, “Well Shrimp, would you like me to wake him? Since you seem to find me such a, hmm, what was the term you used – brutal beast? – perhaps you’d like a bit of a go with Noodler – hmm?” Hook pursed his lips and stared at her through half-closed eyes.  
“Please no,” she whispered.  
“Did you notice my dear, that your new paramour’s hands are on backwards?”  
“Yes, sir. I noticed when I walked around the deck on the night I arrived.”  
“Any guesses how they got that way?”  
“I, I might think you had something to do with it.”  
Hook smiled at the recollection. “Yes, my pet, I did. Once upon a time his hands were positioned like anyone else’s. But Noodler thought he would try to sneak into my quarters and use the wench I had there while I was preoccupied with Peter Pan. Noodler was caught and as punishment, I cut off his hands and had Smee sew them on backwards. Smee is quite handy with a needle and thread.” Hook paused. “Are you sure you don’t want me to wake him – just think, he might provide you with some new sensations as he caresses you within and without.”  
“No, please no sir,” she whispered.  
“I suppose we should find something to occupy the time then, if we are simply going to let him wake on his own.” Hook smiled and going to the table, poured a large cup of muscat. He walked back to the helpless Mrs. Darling and positioned her head at the level of his crotch. He unbuttoned his fly, took out his cock and balls and dunked them in the wine, then straddled her face. He leaned out over her, poured a bit of muscat on her crotch and settled himself on her, with the swing supporting both of them.  
Mrs. Darling ran her tongue along the soft skin of his sack, tasting the combination of wine and flesh and finding some comfort in being with the Captain instead of one of his crew. She shivered as Hook’s mouth lazily played with her, sometimes gliding up the insides of her thighs, at other times pressing to go as deeply as possible into her. She did her best to please him, knowing he could pull away and awaken Noodler at his whim. She took as much of his cock into her mouth as she could, sucking vigorously, trying to recall what she had done that time with the gravyboat, but that seemed so long ago. Time in Neverland seemed to be a very odd thing to her. The minutes of pleasure stretched on…  
The sound came to her ears and chilled her heart – Noodler was groaning and trying to move. Hook was up swiftly, rebuttoning his fly, and stepping to the clock on the wall, moved the hands forward, then stood over Noodler who was still down but rubbing his eyes.  
Noodler looked up with a dazed stare, much like his normal expression, and spoke, “Cap’n, I had a most wonderful dr...” He looked over, saw Mrs. Darling in the swing and exclaimed, “It wasn’t a dream!” He started to scramble to his feet.  
Hook’s boot met his chest, “Your hour has gone. Go!” He pulled his boot away.  
Noodler unsteadily got to his feet with a pleading and dismayed look on his face that made Mrs Darling think of a child being robbed of their Christmas presents. “But Cap’n…”  
It happened more swiftly than could be imagined, for Hook had years of experience and no hesitation.  
Mrs. Darling had never seen another human being die, let alone be torn open and have their guts ripped out and she began screaming. Smee poked his head in with a quizzical expression and Hook waved him in with the words, “Clean up.”  
Hook released the nearly hysterical woman from the swing and took her back to the grotto room, where he kicked the door shut, before shoving her onto the bed and stripping off his clothes but not his hook. He was in an ill humor when he came at her and she was silent and pale with shock. He took her roughly. Sex was always helpful in calming him after he killed, but as he rode her brutally, she had no idea what was taking place within him. When he’d finished, he grabbed her by the wrist and firmly led her back into the water. Hook of course had been splattered by the gore when he tore into Noodler and it had smeared onto Mrs Darling when he took her.  
Hook spoke quietly, “We both need to wash up. You’ve got blood on you.”  
At that comment, the scene she’d just witnessed replayed in her head and she backed away, pale and wide-eyed, pressing her hand over her mouth. She was shaking, breathing hard and fast. Hook stepped to her and made her sit on the steps where she began weeping.  
Hook sat next to her and calmly began to wash her. Her hair had blood in it, so he wet it and began massaging her scalp, drawing her head against his chest, softly murmuring soothing words in her ear. “Hush Pet, shhh. It’s alright Shrimp. It’s done.” She held onto him, one arm around his back, the other on his chest, next to her face, as she shivered and wept. It was several minutes until her tears came to a sniffly halt and he let her sit up, satisfied that she would not pass out and go under. He waded in up to his chest and dunked himself, then looked at her invitingly. She stepped down onto the pool’s floor and went to him, placing one hand on him as if afraid to let him go.  
He spoke in a low voice, “I wouldn’t have let him have you. He was a poxy lad. Behind his back, the crew called him ‘Sheepshagger.’ I once found him trying to smuggle some sheep onboard. We had fine mutton for a month and he wept like a baby.”  
Once again, Mrs. Darling could not quite believe what she was hearing, but she wisely chose to not ask any questions.  
Hook sensed that she was exhausted, and taking her hand, led her out of the water, back into the large room. There were four towels laid neatly on the table, along with bread, cheese, sliced meat, muscat, a bottle of rum, and a small green bottle. She noted he cocked an eyebrow, pausing and seeming to come to a decision as he scanned the table. He sighed heavily and wrapped one towel around himself and set to drying his hair with a second. Mrs. Darling followed suit. The fire was blazing. Hook helped himself to some food and drink, gesturing for her to do the same.  
She looked at the bloody red roast beef and grew pale again. “No, no thank you. I’m not hungry.” Hook easily figured out what was going on in her head and poured a cup of wine for her. He also poured a large spoonful of the green bottle’s contents and held it out, saying, “This will help settle your nerves. Chase it with a bit of the muscat.”  
Like an obedient child, she swallowed the liquid. It burned as it went down and she was grateful for the familiar, pleasant sweetness of the wine which she gulped down after.  
“Captain, what was that?”  
“Something from an apothecary in the Far East. It’s a blend of various things to soothe one’s nerves and lift one’s spirits. I guarantee you’ll feel much more relaxed in a bit. Much.” Hook smiled slyly and queried, “Would you like some cheese? It’s quite good.”  
As she nibbled on some Edam that he’d handed to her, he spoke, “Let’s lie by the fire.”  
Mrs. Darling could’ve sworn that the huge sheepskin rug in front of the fireplace hadn’t been there when she’d been in the swing, but she supposed it didn’t matter. She was feeling a bit light-headed, but in a very pleasant way.  
The rug was cleaner and fluffier than any sheep Mrs. Darling had ever seen. It looked to be several pelts sewn together. She sank back on it gratefully. She noted as he lay down beside her, how truly handsome he was. She no longer felt afraid of him or worried about anything. It was all so pleasant to be resting on the soft rug, by the warm fire, with this attentive, extraordinarily attractive man caressing her.  
Hook lay back and eyed her. She felt less inhibited than ever and she ran her hands all over his body, letting her mouth follow her hands, admiring his well-muscled body. She encouraged him silently to roll over and she stared at his backside, wondering at the firmness of it. She hoped he found her bottom to be as attractive as she found his. She couldn’t stop touching him, kissing him, staring at him in delight. She decided she wanted to admire his front again, and when he turned over for her, she was not surprised that he was erect. She glanced up at one of the pictures on the wall which depicted a couple with the woman on top. Mrs. Darling felt very bold indeed as she climbed onto Hook and guided him into her. The sensation was different being on top and she smiled at Hook who was grinning wickedly with delight. She moaned as she took in his full length and didn’t stop her noises until he came, as he gripped her hip with his hand and pressed her down on him. She collapsed onto him, no longer able to sit up, giggling like a schoolgirl, but not knowing why.  
“Ja-, James? Why is everything so funny?” she poked him in the ribs playfully.  
“It’s from one of the ingredients in that elixir,” he said, smiling back at her with genuine amusement.  
“Did you have some too?”  
“No, no. I don’t partake of that. I keep it on hand for distressed wenches who need cheering. I do quite well enough with muscat or rum.”  
She began kissing him eagerly, groping him, and he rolled over onto her, nuzzling her neck and face as her hands twined into his damp hair.  
So delightfully engrossed in their passions were they, that neither noticed a tall clean-shaven man whose wavy, dark hair was pulled back into a queue, enter the room, pistol drawn.


	15. The Visitor

The sound of the pistol being cocked ran thru Hook’s senses like electricity. He sat up swiftly, but the other man clearly had the advantage. The stranger swaggered into the room, poured muscat into Hook’s cup and drained it before speaking. “Well Cousin, it seems that you’ve found a good place to settle in. I’ve dropped anchor and I’d like to do some trading. From the looks of things, I might like to trade on what you’ve been dropping anchor in.” His dimples showed as he spoke. He set the pistol on the table and sat down, legs spread wide, staring with amusement at Mrs. Darling before he spoke again. “Madam, you look somewhat familiar to me, but I do not presume to be sure of having met you previously.” His pale blue eyes sparkled hungrily as he continued staring arrogantly at her and she felt herself blush. She quickly positioned her hands over her breasts, entirely forgetting that not only was she without drawers, but without pubic hair as well.  
“I, I am Mrs. George Darling.”  
The stranger gave a tight smile, “Ahh, yes! How fortunate that I am able to see you again and indeed get a much better look at your charms this time. We have something in common Mrs. Darling. I also enjoy adultery. However, I’m not married.” He added silkily, “It will be my pleasure to get better acquainted with you.” His gaze traveled down to her very exposed pussy which was still quite pink from Hook’s use of the sugar-wax and he smiled at her vulnerable appearance.  
He spoke to Hook, “Don’t let me stop you from what you were doing. Go ahead and finish up. I know you’re not shy, but do get her in a better position for watching. We will have business to discuss when you are done.”  
Hook smirked at the wide-eyed Mrs. Darling as he knelt between her thighs and slipped back inside her. He cupped her bottom with his hand and ran his hook over her pubic area. She moaned loudly, clutching handfuls of the fluffy rug as she arched her back. With Hook’s skills and the elixir, she quickly forgot that there was an audience. Panting and writhing, she began calling his name, “Oh James, oh God James. Yes, please yes.” Her eyes were closed and she did not see the other man gesturing to Hook to reposition her, moving her from one position to another over a several minute period. Time moved slowly and Mrs. Darling continued to respond to Hook. The stranger’s body shook with silent laughter as Hook continued to bring Mrs. Darling to yet another panting climax. At last, Hook brought her on top of him, straddling his thighs, with their legs pointing towards the solo audience. The stranger stood up, gave the thumb’s up sign to Hook who began to thrust most vigorously. At last Hook came, and as he did, the other man stooped down and slapped Mrs. Darling hard on her bottom. She shrieked as Hook clutched her, her pussy spasming around his cock and he roared ecstatically. The stranger smiled and sat back down. Hook shoved Mrs. Darling off him as he smirked and slowly got up. Mrs. Darling started to get up too, but the stranger waved her back down, never taking his eyes from her. “Let me introduce myself, Mrs. Darling. I was born William Christopher Hook, a cousin of the rogue you’ve been keeping company with. Our fathers were two of three identical triplets. Some even say James and I look quite alike. I have however, had to change my name since I became a wanted man, and I now go by the name of William Green.” He stood and strode over to her as Hook dressed himself.   
Green knelt down and gripped her face in his hand, looking at her eyes, before turning to Hook and asking with amused curiosity, but no concern, “ James, what did you give her?”   
“Mm, some Far East special. Just enough. She’ll do anything a man would want and tell me the truth about anything she’s asked.” The men exchanged small smiles before looking again at the languid woman on the floor. Mrs. Darling felt very dreamy, yes, she decided, dreamy and happy. And here was this other man, an infamous, notorious, murderous man, so very handsome, with blue eyes very much like Hook’s, staring into her eyes. She wondered if he was as well built below the waist as the Captain, and she began to giggle, reaching for the buttons on his breeches so she could see for herself.  
William spoke over his shoulder. “I appreciate what you had Smee bring out to my ship when I anchored. I wanted something different. Mothers have been useful, but they have become so tiresome. That fresh piece will be my crown jewel when I set up my new business. Of course, you and I could always play cards – winner gets both. Just think of the games and manipulations if one had the pair.” His eyes sparkled with the thought.  
Hook was watching Mrs Darling who gave no recognition as to what was being spoken of above her head. She was much to relaxed to care about anything or follow a train of thought.  
William paused to position himself so Mrs. Darling could more readily get her head between his thighs. He grunted as she began sucking what mouthful of him she could reach.  
“Whips and chains and fucking and sucking are mere foreplay, James. I so much more enjoy things beyond those mundane activities, although I’ll not turn them down if nothing else is available. I would think you might have come to appreciate that by now, but to each his own.”  
Hook shrugged. “She will be falling asleep soon. I’ll have Smee put her to bed, then you and I can go pay a visit to your girl. “  
“Excellent James. I want to show you the newest thing I’ve learned .” William gave a short sharp laugh. “It was a new skill for me which I picked up in some islands in the far South Seas. I’ll teach you easily enough.”  
He pulled away and stood up. Mrs Darling’s eyelids were drooping. “She was just too willing for me, James, but I’m glad you find pleasure with her.” He bent down and opened a straightedge razor, seized a long curl of her hair and lopped it off. He slid her wedding ring off and dropped it in his pocket. “Let’s go get better acquainted with ‘the darling daughter’ that the unfortunate fortune-teller promised me, shall we Cousin?”


	16. One of William's Skills

Mrs. Darling awoke alone the next morning in a large unfamiliar bed. The sheets on the mahogany 4-poster had some streaks of blood, but the bottle-green quilt appeared clean. As she moved, she found her left ankle was manacled to a chain which was securely bolted to the stone floor. The walls were also stone and she felt as if she was still in the Black Castle. She shivered from the cold as she stood up next to the bed, pulling out the chamberpot, then crouching over it. She tugged the quilt over herself to try and stay warm. She looked around more, noting the Spartan décor, so very different from Hook’s personal style. There was nothing to hint at being aboard ship again. She tried, but was unable to recall much from the previous day. As she looked around from her relief point, she heard the door open and she turned, trying to cover herself more with the quilt. The dreamy effect of the elixir had completely cleared from her system. When Hook would sneer and stare, she had frequently said to herself that there could never be another man who could be more arrogant and cold -- looking now at the shirtless man who stood in the doorway, she realized how wrong she was in that assumption. William was to Hook as Hook was to George. She had a hazy recollection from the previous day who this well-muscled male, with his casually brutal manner was, and it terrified her.  
“Wench.”  
Mrs. Darling flinched at his tone. She had never heard anyone utter a single word with such scathing contempt.  
He continued in the same tone, but more softly. “James said you’re not a very enthusiastic fucking-piece, that you’re disobedient, and that you often need correction.” He entered the room and stood over her. The bulge of his cock in his breeches could not be unnoticed as he stared down at her. He abruptly yanked the quilt off her, tossing it aside. At that point, her shivering had little to do with the chill of the air on her naked, crouching body. “As I may be willing to take you off his hands, I think it best that you and I get to know each other. I think the best way for you to understand the relationship you’re now in with me will require some effort on my part – effort which I hope will not be wasted. From now on you will speak only when you have my permission.” He snarled, “Get up!”  
She stood.  
“Left foot on my thigh,” he commanded. She readily obeyed and he unfastened the manacle. “Come.” He snapped his fingers as he nodded towards the door.  
They went down the hallway, eventually emerging in the large room with the fireplace. The swing hung empty. Three lengths of dampened rattan cane of varying thicknesses lay upon the table along with a very wide, heavy belt which had numerous thick metal rings fastened to it. He hefted the belt and cinched it tightly around her waist. “Turn around.” She turned and heard him inhale sharply. He then put his arms around her and cinched the belt even more tightly. It was tighter than any corset she’d ever had on, even on her wedding day, and she was getting lightheaded from not being able to breathe well. She was very aware of how hard his body was as he gripped her, with the feel of his chest pressing against her bare back. Hook was strong, but William had a bit more muscular bulk than Hook did.  
“You will receive a caning. Step to the horse,” he snapped.  
She stared straight ahead at their reflections in the mirrored wall as he fastened her hands to the top rings, then her feet wide apart to the bottom, then connected the belt to the middle rings of the frame. He was obviously experienced at this, for she found she could not wiggle an inch. He ran his hand up the inside of her thigh and fingered her pussy, cruelly pinching and poking her tender parts, scraping his thumbnail along her inner lips, as he stood behind her. She fought against crying out, but his hands were strong and he took his time with the pleasure of tormenting her. Her gasps and sharp cries of pain echoed against the cold stone walls.  
He spoke with quiet coldness, “James says you’ve never been caned. I like to use an untried wench. More entertaining. Besides, I enjoy looking at the stripes on a wench’s arse when I’m fucking her there.” He stroked her bottom with his other hand for awhile, studying it. A tight, hungry smile was on his face. Mrs Darling’s mind was trying to figure out what had happened and why he was now in charge of her. Where was Hook? Where was Smee?  
Eventually he stepped back. She watched him walk to the table, take up each rod in turn and swing it. He selected one and took his position. She closed her eyes. The first blow caused her to scream. Had it not been for the support of the wooden frame, she would’ve collapsed from the shock of the pain.  
William’s voice spoke bitingly over her sobs. “Are you so stupid wench, that I must teach you what to say?”  
Mrs. Darling was breathing rapidly and whimpering. She was barely able to speak. “Pl, please sir, tell me what I need to say.”  
William snorted contemptuously. “After the each of the first, second, and third cuts, you will say ‘Thank you sir. May I have another?’ After the fourth cut, you will say ‘Thank you sir for my chastisement’.”  
Mrs. Darling spoke softly, “Th, thank you sir. M, may I have another?”  
William paused and paced for a minute, then swiftly left a second long blood-flecked weal across her bottom.  
After emitting an involuntary scream, she choked out, “Thank you sir. May I have another?”  
Tiny droplets of blood could be seen rising up on both long weals and William stared with pleasure, watching them blossom up from her skin. He waited several moments, pacing slowly behind her. Mrs Darling felt she could not withstand another strike, let alone two more. She had never known such sharp hot pain, except when she once burned a small area on her finger on her stove. Her mind was focused entirely on her bottom as she waited in terror for the next blow. Hook’s cousin continued to pace, enjoying the sight of her physical vulnerability and the raw fear emanating from her, then as swift as lightning, he landed the third strike.  
Another loud wail and another sobbing reply were made by Mrs. Darling.  
He leisurely appraised his results, finding them satisfactory. He put his hand back between her legs and began pinching and scraping her pussy again. “Which hurts worse – your arse or your cunny?” he whispered in her ear.  
“M, m, my cunny, sir.”  
“So you find I haven’t done a very good job on your arse?”  
Mrs Darling had no idea what to say, so she remained silent.  
He repositioned himself slightly and swinging as hard as he could, he left the fourth red line.  
Somehow, Mrs. Darling was able to recall what to say.  
He traced his finger possessively over each raised crimson mark he had left, spreading the blood, as tears streamed down her face and she choked on her sobs. He then strode to the table, poured a cup of rum and returned to stand behind her. He spoke, “Somehow I don’t think your thanks were sincerely heartfelt.”  
Mrs. Darling did not know what she could say or even if she were permitted to speak. William dipped a finger in the rum and ran it lightly over the lines he had created, the rum mixing with the tiny spots of blood, eliciting gasps from Mrs. Darling as the alcohol burned her inflamed and raw skin. He reached between her legs with his rum-drenched finger and began fondling her. He amused himself for some minutes, taking a drink occasionally, eventually stepping back to the table to top off his cup.  
Although she was fading in and out of consciousness from the shock of the caning, Mrs. Darling forced opened her eyes at the sound of boots coming down the hall in no particular hurry, watching in the mirror with desperate hope for Hook to return.  
Hook strolled into the room, smoking a cigar, and smiled as he nodded silently. His gaze lingered on the limp and tethered form of Mrs. Darling as he poured himself some rum and raised his cup in the direction of his cousin. “To money, power and respect. May we continue to enjoy what we have earned.”  
William raised his cup and nodded, smiling, and took a drink. Hook moved in to take a closer look. “I see your excellent handiwork, Cousin.” He stared admiringly at the three parallel stripes with the fourth starting at the bottom left corner, perfectly bisecting the middle stripe, and ending precisely at the upper right top. “I never could get my stripes as perfectly marked as yours.”  
“It’s practice,” William replied smugly. “Hours and hours of practice.”  
They burst out laughing together.  
“You know William, some say that since you’ve gone on the run that your cruelty is now totally unbridled and you’re more debauched than ever, but I would say you’re the same black-hearted reprobate I knew in my youth. No wench was ever safe. That incident with your neighbor’s daughter for example!”  
Wiliam smirked, “The fool of a groom who had disrespected me couldn’t back out from marrying her even though she couldn’t properly walk the next day. She tore almost all the way down, but I left her maidenhead as a consolation prize.”  
Hook spoke up. “Yes, we are different in that respect William. Drawing first blood is such a pleasure for me. I would have taken her maidenhead with the greatest of pleasure and left her arse as the only virginal hole for her husband. It’s well we enjoy different things though since it allows for sharing with no quarrels.”  
William sat down and sipped at his cup as Hook stood there. “James, we should be wrapping up our business in the next couple of days. We each have places to go and neither of us will want to sail in bad weather.”  
“I know you’re in a hurry to get back and put the finishing touches on the entertainment for your gentlemen’s club.”  
Hook reached out, caressing Mrs. Darling’s tear-stained face with the back of his hook until her eyes opened wide, and tucked a curl behind her ear, murmuring, “Don’t you wish you’d been more obedient to me? Hmm?” He turned her face towards his and kissed her deeply, leaving the taste of both rum and cigar in her mouth. She tried to pull her face away from the rank taste. Hook stepped back to his cousin and spoke, “I still don’t know what to do with this one.”  
Mrs. Darling turned her head slightly and looked pleadingly at Hook out of the corner of her eye before speaking in the faintest of whispers. “Please sir, please take me back.”  
Hook made no reply, and his expression hardened into a sneer that he made sure she could see in the mirror. “William, I’d like to return to your ship and put the finishing touches on our business.” Jerking his thumb towards the sniffling, disheveled Mrs Darling, he curtly added, “I’ll have Smee clean up this mess.”  
William nodded, “Alright, but remember, I still have a claim on this one. I haven’t tried out her arse yet.” He grinned wickedly.  
“But you could have had her last night!”  
“Yes, but when a wench is that willing, it’s not particularly enjoyable for me, so I didn’t. I’d much rather take her when she wants to fight me off like that new one does.”  
Hook smiled and shrugged in reply, then bellowed, “Mr. Smee!”  
Smee emerged from the grotto room, apron on, sponge and rag in hand.  
“Clean up in here. We’ll be aboard the ‘Trojan’, returning this evening.”  
“Yes, Captain.”  
“We’re done with her for now. You can release her, feed her, and tidy her up.”  
Without a backward glance, the two men strode from the room, their boots echoing faintly down the hall. Smee did not release her immediately, but went to one of the cabinets, pulled open a couple of different drawers, rummaged a bit and pulled out a gold tin. Opening it, he approached and spoke, “It’ll help soothe those stripes on your arse, I mean your bum, Missus.”  
Mrs. Darling didn’t care that it was Smee rubbing her bottom. The sharp burning feeling became a dull, mild ache as he applied the cream which was a great improvement. To Smee’s credit, he didn’t touch her anywhere else. Then again, being a man and a pirate – although not a very ferocious one – he did stare upwards, appreciating the sight and breathing heavily, when he knelt to slowly undo the shackles on her ankles. He freed her and as she stretched and shivered, he brought her a soft robe and a plate of food.  
“Missus, you can go lay on the Cap’n’s bed and eat. I don’t think tryin’ to sit would be a very good thing.”  
Smee led the way carrying the plate of food and a goblet filled with muscat. Mrs. Darling followed slowly, holding the wall for support as she shuffled down the hall and onto the bed. She was still weak and light-headed with fright and shock. She pulled the covers onto herself but the touch of the fabric hurt her bottom, so she pushed the sheet off. She figured it didn’t make any difference since Smee had already seen what her bottom looked like. She began eating as Smee sat in a green leather wingback hobnailed chair and watched pensively. He softly spoke up as she took a drink. “Missus, if you have questions about the Captain, I might be able to give you some answers since they’re out for awhile.”  
She paused after the first bite of ham and asked, “Smee, why is the Captain so wicked?”  
Smee’s tone was somewhat apologetic. “Well Missus, he wasn’t filled with malice, jealousy and disappointment until his hand was cut off.”  
“How did that happen?”  
“No one told you Missus?”  
She shook her head slowly.  
Smee looked grimly at her. “It’s a terrible tale. I’m going to leave out a lot of the details to spare your sensibilities, but basically Pan decided to take a go at the Captain, not because of anything the Captain did or didn’t do, but just because Pan is impulsive and he hates grown-ups. He caught the Captain off-guard and succeeded in cutting off his hand.” Smee lowered his voice to a whisper. “I saw the fight with my own two eyes, Missus. Pan was aiming to cut the Captain low and rob him of his manhood, but Cap’n Hook blocked Pan’s sword and lost his hand in the process.” Smee continued on as Mrs Darling paled. “Pan then grabbed Captain’s severed hand and threw it to the giant crocodile which gobbled it down. All I could do for my Captain was patch him up so he wouldn’t bleed to death.” Smee looked near tears and dabbed at his eyes with his handkerchief.  
“Oh Smee! I had no idea of any of this!”  
“Well that’s why Cap’n does what he does. It is true he has been trying to kill Pan. Captain also tries to do the good thing and find children to send them back to their homes. When Pan lures children to this place, they don’t know about dangers like the crocodile or other things in the jungle. It just seems to be a fun adventure to them. Pan said something about death being a very great adventure. Cap’n doesn’t want any child coming to any harm. He would feel so very awful about it if that were to happen.” Smee paused briefly, then added with great solemnety, “Another thing you may not know about the Captain is that he used to be a very, very skilled harpsichord player before he lost his hand. Music was one of his great joys. He confided in me once it was his very favorite pastime in his youth. Before Pan cut off his hand the Cap’n would sometimes play for the crew – it made us all so happy and wicked Pan robbed us of that joy. In fact at Christmastime, we would all gather ‘round and sing carols. It’s been many years since Cap’n was able to play ‘O Little Town of Bethlehem’.” Smee again dabbed his eyes with his handkerchief, adding a loud sniffle for effect.  
Mrs Darling murmured to herself, “Poor James is so misunderstood.” She had entirely forgotten Hook’s threats of disemboweling her children and had not really heard his discussions with William due to her shock and impaired level of consciousness. She looked over at Smee who had a far-off look in his eyes. She thought he was recalling some other kindly deeds from the Captain’s history; Smee was in fact trying to remember all the things, some true, most total lies, which Hook had instructed Smee to tell Mrs Darling.  
“Missus, the Cap’n was so very upset when he heard that Pan had lured a girl to this place. Pan had only ever brought boys here in all the years before.”  
“My daughter! My daughter Wendy? Did Captain Hook find her?” There was a tone of desperation in her voice that tugged at Smee’s heart.  
“He searched for days and nights, nights and days, roaming without rest or food, desperate to find her before some awful thing befell her. Finally, he found her and her brothers. He explained how dearly you and your husband loved and missed them. Their hearts were touched and they were filled with remorse for running away. Your youngest cried a bit at knowing how he had disappointed you.”  
Mrs Darling looked at Smee, then suddenly spoke up. “When they were captured, they weren’t hurt were they? I mean Wendy wasn’t ….?”  
“Oh Missus, no!” Smee did his best to look horrified and appalled. In a tone of mild indignation he continued. “Cap’n was with us. It happened at night when you were asleep. The boys were held at swordpoint and Wendy was told to obey the Captain or else her brothers could come to harm, but we only said that to get them to not run off. Cap’n Hook sat them down and spoke to them about the importance of family and staying in school and being kind to others and looking both ways before crossing the street and wearing a jacket outside when it’s cold and eating all their vegetables. He also spoke to Wendy away from the boys, and told her how important it is for a young lady to behave properly, in a dignified and ladylike manner, because she will someday be a mother and she should strive to follow the best example there is, which of course would be you.” Smee peered over his glasses to see what effect his words were having. He was pleased to note she looked misty-eyed, so he went on. “Captain Hook is concerned that the current generation of young people understand how important it is to grow up to be virtuous people.” Smee paused, recalling that Hook always said he preferred virtuous women since they were so much easier to take advantage of. “Captain wants only the best life possible for your daughter and I think he gave her some very good advice and guidance. After speaking to your children, the Captain had them sent back. I can’t tell you how; I’m not allowed to say. But I think your sweet children appreciated his concern for them.”  
Mrs Darling’s eyes welled up with tears with a combination of sorrow at missing her children and also at the feeling of overwhelming gratitude she felt towards Hook.  
Smee pressed his lips together tightly and looked at Mrs Darling kindly. “You’d best finish your meal. If you shout for me, I’ll come back.”  
He turned and left the room, pulling the heavy door shut tightly behind him.  
Possibilities rushed through her mind as she ate a bit more and finally fell asleep, exhausted by all she’d been through.


	17. The Gates of Mercy

Mrs. Darling awoke in near darkness to the feel of someone sitting down on the bed. A hand clasped one side of her bottom and she whimpered. She heard Hook chuckle.  
“Smee put some salve on those weals I’d warrant, else you’d have screamed ‘til my hair stood on end – what a sight that would be! Cousin William made a more than generous offer to me to take you with him. He is planning on setting up his own gentlemens’ club in Shanghai complete with exotic performances of the most unnatural and deviant acts. He thinks that despite your age, he could find a use for you when he trained you sufficiently. Do you like large dogs, ponies, perhaps?”  
He stood and lit the candle on the table, along with the wall sconces, then began stripping off his clothes as he spoke. “Get on your hands and knees.”  
“Like an animal?” The tone of her voice indicated she found it somewhat shocking. Hook smiled with amusement as he paused for a moment in his disrobing to position a pier glass nearby so she was reflected in it.  
“I’d think you’d be uncomfortable if I lay with you in the traditional manner, with you on your back, getting your arse rubbed raw on the sheets. I would’ve thought the caning William gave you would be enough for your bottom. Or do you fancy having more pain there? That can certainly be managed if you wish. Some hot pepper oil or cinnamon oil on those marks would liven you up quite well.”  
She was quick to scramble onto all fours as he spoke and Hook’s smile broadened in watching her as he removed his breeches. She glanced at him, blushed to see his erection jutting at her and swiftly started to shrink away.  
“Still shy of me when you’re sober, aren’t you? Too bad for you. Turn your face back towards me.”  
He had stepped to the edge of the bed and caught her face in his hand, drawing it to his hardness. She closed her eyes as she opened her mouth. Hook tapped the side of her face with his fingers, “Keep your eyes open. I like to watch the look in them when you suck on me.” She looked up at him and he sneered cruelly at her at he thrust his hips, driving himself into her warmth. He laughed briefly, “Truly the most beautiful woman in the world is the one with my cock in her mouth, so for the moment, that happens to be you.” He rocked back and forth gently as he continued to hold her face, enjoying her blushing cheeks. At last he pulled out and climbed on the bed behind her, positioning himself between her thighs. He was slick enough from her mouth that he was able to ease himself into her pussy. “Bottom up, head just a bit lower. Don’t bury your head under the pillow, Shrimp. I like to watch the expression on your face while I’m fucking you.”  
She glanced up and saw herself with Hook behind her, reflected in the glass. Hook caught her eye and grinned lewdly at her as he gently ran his hook through the locks of her hair which lay across her back. She quickly pulled her gaze from his, feeling ashamed. She could see the muscles in his chest moving as he stroked in and out, the straps of his hook device rubbing his flesh, noticing the trail of hair that led downward, recalling how she had peeked at his chest hair when they first met. She had certainly never thought she would end up in the situation she found herself in at present. Hook took his time, moving slowly in and out, so she was aware of every thick inch of him. He nudged her so she slowly shifted a bit sideways. She realized he was watching in the mirror, staring at the sight of his cock sliding in and out, enjoying the different perspective the mirror provided. She obediently kept her face turned so she was reflected although she was having trouble keeping her eyes open as Hook continued to drive into her. Her soft gasps and moans grew louder and punctuated the gentle sound of the water flowing into the pool. Eventually, he spoke.  
“William very much wants to fuck you in the arse. If he keeps you, it would of course be no care of mine what he does. However, if I keep you, I’d rather not have you all torn up. Personally, I somewhat prefer having my cock in a woman’s mouth than in her bottom, but he’s just the opposite. To each his own.” He smiled at the panic-stricken look on her face as he observed her in the mirror. She tried to think of what to say to him, but had difficulty coming up with any possible idea that could dissuade him from handing her over to William. Hook watched her with amusement, equally enjoying the feeling of being inside her, and of observing her emotional torment. Her reaction to his words was obvious and several times her mouth moved as if she was starting to say something, but then thought the better of it and kept silent. At last, the sensation of her tight, wet heat around him became irresistible and his strokes shortened as he began slamming vigorously into her, making her cry out with each thrust. He moaned as he finally came, collapsing onto her. The salt from his sweat stung her welted stripes and she tried to roll out from under him, but he held onto her as she lay flat on her stomach, nuzzling his face against her neck and back. He could tell from the sounds she made that she was in some pain, but it neither displeased him, nor moved him to pity.  
“Sir, please let me up.”  
“Why should I when you are wiggling so delightfully?”  
“Captain, please, my bottom hurts.”  
He smirked and pinned her down more firmly, rubbing his coarse short hairs against her. Her whimpers of pain turned to tears of frustration at his behavior.  
“Please don’t hurt me James.”  
“James?” Hook’s tone was sharp. “When did I ever give you permission to address me in such a familiar way?”  
“I’m sorry sir. Please don’t hurt me anymore. I belong to you. Have some mercy upon me.”  
He sighed heavily. “I shut the gates of mercy in my heart long ago, Madam, and yet somehow, by means I know not of, you have a key within you.”  
Hook gently kissed the back of her neck and rolled off, then softly said, “Up. Time for a soak.”  
Mrs. Darling did not hesitate to step into the water, despite the pain that raged across her bottom. Hook laughed as she gasped as she stepped in, then laughed louder as she glared at him. “Shrimp, don’t you know yet that one man’s agony is another man’s amusement?” He pulled her to him and hissed in her ear, “Why shouldn’t I sell you to him? You’ve been willful and ungrateful ever since I rescued you in the jungle. I took you in, gave you a fine dinner, some entertainment, a bath, new things to wear – and all you’ve done is break your promises.” He paused and deeply inhaled the scent of her before releasing his breath with a sigh. “Yet, I am a kind and noble man, even to wenches who are unappreciative.” He smiled slyly, cupping her chin in his hand and staring into her eyes as he continued, “As a sign of my esteem and generosity, I am going to bestow some jewelry of sorts upon you – yours to keep, even if you don’t stay with me.” His smile broadened, “Let’s get out and dry off.”  
Mrs. Darling’s suspicions were at their height when after drying off next to the fire, Hook motioned her to lay on the leather swing as he pulled on his breeches. “Sir, what kind of jewelry requires you to strap me down to give it to me?”  
Hook gave no answer as he tightened the straps and shackles. He wore a small tight smile which reminded her of his cousin and made her more fearful. There was something she thought she had heard them say, but she couldn’t quite remember it and couldn’t fit it into any frame of reference she had.  
Hook pulled up two chairs alongside her, setting himself in one and a small black leather case on the other. He repositioned the swing so Mrs. Darling’s upper torso was over his lap. He smiled magnanimously at her. “It shall be the lady’s choice as to where I begin. Up or down? Pick one!”  
“Um, up Captain?”  
Hook leered, “Excellent choice Shrimp, saving the most tender bits for last!” He paused and in his most polite and solicitous tone asked thoughtfully, “Blindfold or no?”  
“No.”  
He raised an eyebrow.  
“No thank you Captain. It’s very kind of you to offer to provide me with one, but thank you, no.”  
Hook pursed his lips and nodded approvingly. He then withdrew from the case a very large curved needle which she noticed was hollow. The sight of it made her queasy and in looking away, she did not see the other items which he removed from the case and carefully arranged.  
She stared at the ceiling and asked, “Sir what will you be doing with me?”  
Hook smiled delightedly. He continued to smile and gently bit his bottom lip. He paused for a moment, thoughtfully evaluating the situation and scowled. “This will best be done with an assistant. Mr. Smee!”  
Smee dutifully appeared. “Yes Cap’n?”  
“I’ll need you to hold some things.” Hook seized Mrs. Darling’s nipple with a pair of forceps, clamping the tool closed. Mrs. Darling gasped and whimpered. Hook nodded to Smee, “Here, hold it taut.” He held the tool towards Smee who realized perhaps he should’ve listened to his uncle’s advice to become a baker. Smee was wisely dutiful however, and did as he was ordered. Hook set a thin piece of metal rod into the hollow at the base of the needle, making sure it fit snugly, then picked up the very large needle, lay his hook flat on the bottom half of her breast and swiftly drove the needle sideways thru the base of her nipple so the piece of steel rod remained in her as the needle exited. Hook slid the rod so its ends were sticking out in equal proportion from her nipple. “Release the forceps,” he muttered to Smee. Mrs. Darling managed to be relatively stoic during the piercing, but Hook was deliberately cruel as he played with the newly-placed rod. Hook picked up a narrow clevis from the case, sliding it over one end of the rod, sliding the rod further along, then sliding the rod back through the other end of the clevis. The gap in the clevis was just wide enough to accommodate her nipple and the height of the clevis was twice that of her nipple. The rod was long enough to be in no danger of sliding out on its own.  
“Please sir, I respectfully beg you to not do that,” she pleaded as Hook tugged delightedly on the clevis with the tip of his hook.  
Hook gave a long sigh and gazed down on her. “As you wish.”  
“Thank you sir.”  
“But since I just gave you what you wish, it is now my turn to do as I wish.” He smiled and Mrs. Darling was suddenly very afraid of what Hook would wish to do. He repositioned her, so he was on the other side of her body and she squeezed her eyes shut as tears leaked from them, for she knew what he was intent on doing and there was no way to stop him. Smee knew too, and recalled that one of his cousins had thought Smee would do well as a tailor, then shook his head at the thought of needles, for once again Hook had affixed another short rod to the curved needle before mercilessly grasping Mrs. Darling’s other nipple with the forceps and indicating to Smee that he should repeat his task of holding the forceps.  
Footsteps in a precise, measured cadence were heard coming down the hall and Hook paused to wait for his cousin. William entered, a pleased expression upon his face, drew up a chair near Mrs. Darling’s head and took the forceps from Smee who was only too glad to relinquish his part in what he considered to be very unsavory doings. “Cap’n, I’ll go start fixin’ dinner, if that’ll be alright.”  
Hook shrugged, Smee scuttled, William sneered, and Mrs. Darling emitted a small sob for William was twisting the tool that held her tender teat tightly.  
The pirate set his hook flat against the bottom half of her breast as his cousin held the forceps still, and the needle was driven through in one swift, sure stroke. A strangled-sounding sob escaped from the lovely captive, and she whimpered as Hook set the second clevis on its rod.  
“That’s a nicely-matched pair you’ve given her, James. It will make attaching her to a chain so much easier. Struggling is one thing, but actually running away will be prevented." He gave her a cold, chilling stare with his ice-blue eyes. "Items of value will not be lost." He paused and tilted his head to the side. "She seems quite ungrateful however. I haven’t heard one word of thanks for your fine labors, let alone for the lovely jewelry. Obviously, punishment is in order.” He grinned.


	18. A Pirate Custom

“Thank you! Thank you both sirs so very much. And my thanks to Smee as well! These two are more than I deserve.”  
Hook spoke. “You sound as if you would turn down more lovely jewelry which I would wish to give you – that would be an affront to my generous nature, and could make me feel irritated with you.” He made a sad face at her. “You wouldn’t want that now would you?”  
Her words came rapidly in attempted appeasement. “I would never wish to offend you or your cousin, or any of your crew. Your kindness is beyond measure and if I would only be allowed, I would wish to be with you forever. Smee told me of your diligent and kind labor to return my children back home.”  
“Shrimp, I have heard it said around this place that forever is a very long time. Would you really wish to be mine forever?”  
Mrs Darling nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes I would.”  
She glanced at William whose eyes were flinty and mouth was tight.  
Hook spoke up. “Well William, we have our answer from the lady. That being said, we all need to go back to the Trojan for the wedding.”  
“Wedding?!" As a proper Victorian lady, Mrs Darling spoke out of shock, "But that would be bigamy!”  
Hook’s expression changed in a flash. “Then I shall concede you have rejected my offer of marriage and wish to be purchased by William,” Hook replied sharply. “I hope you shall find that it makes you happy.”  
“NO!,” she screamed.  
William’s voice drowned out the rest of her words as he stood up. “Let’s be done with this nonsense. We’ll go back to my ship and I will pay you. “  
Hook grabbed his glass and stood up. “Let’s go walk and talk, dear Cousin.  
“No, I did not mean it the way it sounded! I will do anything, anything you want me to. I will be yours forever. Please don’t do it Captain, please don’t!”  
William strode back into the room with a look of malicious glee on his face. He grabbed her nearest nipple and twisted hard. He hissed at her, “Any form of rebelliousness will be punished. You will learn to obey me, although I know I will take more pleasure from training you than you certainly will being on the receiving end of my disciplinary measures.” He turned and exited the room.  
Her hysterical sobs followed the men down the hallway. She heard Hook calling for Smee but couldn’t stop herself crying quickly enough to catch any of the brief conversation that followed.  
Smee came in looking more distressed than she had ever seen him. He shook his head sorrowfully, pulled out his handkerchief and blew his nose loudly. He sat down in one of the chairs by the swing. “Missus, you need to keep in mind that you’re among pirates. Here we have our own customs and our own laws. If say, someone who is already married elsewhere, is going to marry a pirate, then the lass would renounce her marriage and be considered free of it so she could then make her vows with no complications. A ship’s captain can marry people, and Green would have done the ceremony for you and Captain Hook, even though he wants you for himself. I’m not sure what he would want for doing the ceremony, but I’m sure they could’ve struck a deal.” Smee paused and stood up. “Cap’n told me to get you a bit dressed and bring you over to his cousin’s ship. Promise me you won’t try and run, Missus. I’ll be holding a pistol on you. It’s not worth my life to let you escape.”


	19. An Eager Bride, A New Groom

And so it was that Smee escorted Mrs Darling at pistol point over to the Trojan. She was wearing only a skirt and her new jewelry. As they walked onto Green’s ship, Mrs Darling could not help but notice a large crate in the middle of the deck. It was substantial enough to hold a fine carriage, she thought. Captain Hook and William were leaning against it. Mrs Darling noted with fear that there was a leather swing, exactly like Hook’s, suspended at about waist height, from a sturdy metal stand next to the crate.  
William’s gaze burned into her. She wanted nothing to do with this monstrous man. She wanted to explain everything to Hook, how she did not understand the customs of this world, how very much she wanted his forgiveness and most of all, how much she wanted to be with him.  
Hook looked contemptuously at her. The silence and stares of the two captains made her shrink up next to Smee who peeked over his glasses at her as she pressed sideways against him. Hook glared at Smee who realized he was in a precarious position and spoke up. “Cap’n, I’d best head back now. I forgot to dust your harpsichord!” He turned heel and moved very swiftly for a man of his years, not wanting to be present for the activities he was sure would take place.  
Mrs. Darling looked stricken and stared at the deck. “Take off your skirt and get into my swing,” William murmured. She undid the fastenings on her skirt and stepped out of it in a hurry, then hastened to the swing and climbed on, trying to avoid scraping her still-raw bottom on the heavy straps as she positioned herself with her legs wide apart in the air.  
Hook put his cigar in his mouth as he secured her to the swing. William went to a long box next to the crate and opened it. Hook glared at her and grasping his cigar, spoke, “Were you truthful when you told me that you’ve never been birched?”  
“True, Captain.”  
Hook gave a flicker of a smile and Mrs Darling felt queasy. Hook spoke softly, his voice a cold combination of menace and malice. “Cousin William favors the cane for bottoms, but he finds birching to work well on cunnys, especially when they need to be tenderized in preparation for other activities.” The smile became a smirk and she stared in horror as William advanced towards her with a cluster of birch twigs in his hand.  
She spoke rapidly to William as he flicked the birch in the air, testing it. “Sir, is there anything particular I need to say, as when you caned me?”  
Hook began laughing, “Ha William! I told you she would ask. She‘s a quick learner that one.”  
William’s eyes narrowed as he flicked the birch again in the air. “You just lost me five guineas.”  
“I am sorry sir.”  
Hook stepped up. “I’ll tell you what William. You can keep the guineas if you use the birch with leaves on her.”  
William’s gave a grin that reached to his eyes. “You old rogue!” He nodded as he stared at Hook.  
Hook smiled crookedly and shrugged. William turned and went back to the box, returning with a birch with fresh green leaves. He strode up to the suspended and helpless Mrs. Darling and without hesitation or warning, brought down the instrument of discipline upon her most tender parts again and again. He laid many strokes upon her breasts as well. She shrieked and writhed, unable to escape, as Hook stood there, smoking his cigar, and enjoying the spectacle immensely.  
William paused for a moment in his labor. Hook held up his hand, and stepped to Mrs Darling. He bent over and whispered in her ear, “Don’t you wish you had chosen me instead?”  
She spoke up, loudly with fright, “Please dearest Captain. I wish to be with you. I gladly and freely renounce my marriage with George. I wish only to be with you forever.”  
William snorted and spoke sarcastically, “What fine qualities do you think James possesses? Do you imagine him to be thoughtful and kindly? Honest and true? A beacon of benevolence? A paragon of virtue perhaps?”  
Mrs Darling spoke up with some indignation in her voice. “Yes, in his own way.” She turned to Hook and spoke directly to him. “Dearest Captain, I appreciate so very much what you did when you found my children. I wish to especially thank you for taking the time to be with my daughter and teaching her about what it means to be a woman.”  
Hook smiled broadly and she sensed the tiniest bit of mockery as he spoke, but she pushed it from her thoughts. “Madam, I was most glad to have the chance to spend some time with Wendy. She is much like you and she has a rich future ahead of her with the right man behind her. The pleasure was all mine, I assure you, in getting her started out in the proper way.” He gestured with his cigar, “I know she will go far in life, bringing happiness to those fortunate enough to spend time with her. In her presence I felt something singular and ephemeral. Such a lovely young woman – truly, she takes after you, Shrimp.” He sighed, paused and looked intensely at Mrs Darling, then theatrically dropped to one knee, “Shrimp, I am willing to not sell you to William if you will be mine this day.”  
“Yes, oh yes my Beloved Captain! I wish for nothing more than to be with you!”  
“Then let us proceed. But before you and I can be wed, as pirate and wife, you must renounce your prior union in a satisfactory manner. There is no set speech for you to make, the words must come from your heart and be convincing for both William and myself. He will not wed us unless he is convinced that you truly wish to be only mine.”  
“Captain, if you please, I can think better standing up.”  
Hook pursed his lips, “Well, I suppose if I were to release you from William’s swing, and perhaps let you even put your skirt on, that would be a merciful thing to do, so you can make your very best speech.”  
Hastily, those things were done and Mrs Darling stood barefoot and topless on the deck, quickly putting her words together. She cleared her throat softly and spoke out in a clear strong voice, “From this day forward I renounce all others, including and especially one George Darling. Furthermore, I wish only to belong to the bravest, most noble Captain James Hook who I most emphatically state is welcome at any time to provide his unique guidance in helping Wendy grow up. I shall provide such service to the Captain with my person in any manner he chooses, so that he shall find delight, pleasure and satisfaction with me. I shall endeavor to be obedient, that he may reward me with his long, thick cock, in my cunny, ass, or mouth as he wishes. “  
Hook clapped his hand on his right forearm enthusiastically and hugged her saying, “Well-spoken indeed, Shrimp!” He turned to his cousin. “Will you marry us now?”  
William nodded. “It seems that all that was foretold is coming to pass, so yes, the thing to be done is to join you in matrimony.”  
“Do you Mary take this pirate, Captain James Hook, in obedience to him, as he is and likely shall ever continue to be, without expectation of changing him, from this day forward ?”  
“I do!”  
“Do you James Hook, take this wench who is freely giving herself to you with the goal of making you happy, for as long as you continue to desire her?”  
“I do.” Hook grinned broadly.  
“Then I pronounce you Pirate and Wench, Man and Wife, Owner and Kept, until such time that the Captain changes his mind.” William stared at her and added, “If he changes his mind he will write me. I’ll keep a place open for you.” Hook cleared his throat. William gave him a lazy look and added, “You may now take your bride. Did you really need me to tell you that?”  
“William, the particulars must observed. It makes it unofficially official.”  
Hook scooped her up, set her down on her belly on the swing, undid his fly buttons and took out his cock. She obediently reached out and guided him into her mouth. Hook pulled from his pocket a small gold tin which he tossed to William, giving the admonishment, “Do not deliberately tear her; I of course understand accidents do happen.” They exchanged knowing glances.  
And so it was that a very exhausted and sore Mary, finally boarded the Jolly Roger, carried over the shoulder of Captain Hook. They set sail to the Barbary Coast, much to Peter Pan’s frustration. He did not know how Hook was finally somehow free of him through being loved, for Pan did not know love and did not want it anyway. Hook’s heart continued to soften towards Mary, and he became a somewhat better man, but honesty never came to be among his virtues. Which was just as well, since some truths are best not told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who prefer to conclude stories on a happier note, please let this be the end of the story. Things only get darker from here.


	20. The Crate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! There be underage non-con to be found within -- violence and depravity! But that's at least some of what you're here for isn't it?

From within the crate she could always hear everything on deck. A couple of hours earlier she had been moved from her position on the floor by the old pirate who was her caregiver, to now standing, facing a tiny crack in the wall. Now if she wished to open her eyes she could see everything happening in front of the crate and so she had been watching, scanning to see how she might escape, if her mother and brother were nearby, and how she could let them know she was there. She had been expertly gagged so she could not give up a sound to the still, humid air.  
She could hear the conversation of Hook and William on deck although she couldn’t see them.  
“It’s strange how it’s all falling into place. You will make your fortune for years to come on the ‘darling daughter’ and I am finding that I am freed by ‘the darling wife.’  
“Hmm, yes James. I anticipate minimum of two hundred guineas a night, likely more while she is a novelty for my clients. Her singular earnings will eclipse what I make with all the others combined. Too bad you won’t sell Mary, although I think Mary fully expects you to sell her to me.” William gave a short laugh. “She is in terror of me most certainly.”  
“She’s probably trying to bribe Smee to turn her loose. I told him if she makes him an offer, he can take her up on it. It would be no problem to recapture her. He could probably use a good sucking-off.” They both laughed. Hook spoke cheerfully, “William, thank you again for the use of the girl.”  
“It was a pleasure to watch you take her. After you left, I put in a couple of stitches where you tore up her maidenhead; with any luck, she will heal up perfectly so she can get torn open again by the highest bidder at the club grand opening – paying audience in attendance of course. After I stitched her, I secured her to prevent further damage, so she will be better than new and even more exotic in the initial presentation of her.”  
“Let’s step into your quarters and pour a drink while we’re waiting for them to show up. I’ll help myself to one of your fine cigars too. It will be good to get back to civilization with its abundance of amenities, if it can be said the Barbary Coast in San Francisco resembles civilization. I appreciate that list of your business contacts there too. Most helpful.”  
“Certainly, James.”  
Footsteps and voices faded away.

Her mother’s shredded pink evening gown lay crumpled in the corner continuing to produce a light, familiar scent of violets. A few days earlier, with her back to the wall, through the only door in the crate, she had observed the entrance of a calm, well-dressed, neatly-groomed man, new to her, whose physical appearance reminded her of Hook. She had been sitting on the floor on the two blankets which had been provided, one ankle and one wrist secured to the crate by chains with enough leeway to change positions and even lie down to sleep. She knew enough to not scream. In his palm, he showed her mother’s wedding ring to her, which she immediately recognized. She had accused him of merely finding it -- it must have been dropped in the jungle! She vehemently denied the possibility that the ring was proof he had her mother as his prisoner. Her heart had risen in knowing her mother was searching Neverland and likely had brought others with her to help find them. She felt brave, despite being held captive, brave enough to contradict this stranger who showed no signs to her of being particularly dangerous. He had patiently paused, letting her mouth run and her hopes float high as he knew they would. Then, wordlessly he had given a tight smile and produced the long, dark lock of her mother’s hair. He soaked in the crush of her disappointment and then from a leather bag, pulled out her mother’s pink gown and watched some more, enjoying the raw emotions displayed clearly upon her face. He had mockingly asked if she wanted more proof.  
“A finger – a hand – perhaps one of her breasts, upon which you can lay your head as you did as a child?” Except of course, he explained, it would be sliced from her mother’s still-living body. He offered to let her watch.

Terror worse than nightmares erupted instantly, such terror as she never could have imagined. He had introduced himself, spoke at detailed length of his plans for her future with him. The fate of her brother Michael lay in this man’s hands. She knew her brother John had been given to his evil crew for whatever men like that did to young boys. His death had brought some silence to her ears, but she realized she would never stop hearing John’s screams from below deck in her nights. Michael was being held somewhere on the ship, awaiting transport like herself. She thought as long as she was still alive that there would be hope for escape, for rescue, for some way to return and be part of her family again.

Hours after that man had exited, another had entered the crate. This one she knew immediately. The threats were unspoken as he closed the door behind him, stepping towards her; his hook was enough incentive for compliance, especially after she saw what happened to some Lost Boy they were with when they were captured by him and his crew. In the depths of the jungle, he had slowly gutted the lad, and she and her brothers had each had their hands wrapped together with a length of the slick, bloody, filth-filled intestine. She had vomited and fainted at that point, returning to consciousness inside the crate. So Hook had come to her there.

Prior to his arrival, she had been cleaned up, a piece of cloth tied in place which muffled her speech rather than stopping it altogether, hands secured wide apart on the wall but feet untethered and able to stand solidly upon the floor. She watched him warily, pressing herself against the wall to be as small of a target as possible. Yet, he saw something in her eyes – the faintest shred of hope. He realized at that moment she did fear him, but feared William far more. Was she so naïve, so foolish that she could possibly think he would save her from William? Hook had seen many times how someone’s fear could sever them from reality. She did not seem that far gone yet.  
He smiled gently and greeted her as graciously as if they were in someone’s living room at a family Christmas gathering. “Dearest girl, so very good to see you again. You look so much better than when I last saw you. You are positively blossoming under my Cousin William’s care!” He used his hook and brushed aside the long locks of hair she had managed to shake into place to provide some modesty. He was pleased at what he saw and how she blushed intensely as he stared at her and she stared at his boots. He gently ran his hook over her pale pubic hair, never touching the flesh beneath, toying pleasantly for a minute with her escalating fear. He inquired as if he were some long-lost maiden aunt, “Tell me dear, and stand up straight and look me in the eye when you address me. How old are you?” He could tell from her eyes she was trying to gauge what response might provide some advantage against his anticipated intimate attack.  
“Eleven.” It was muffled but clear enough.  
Hook laughed. “If you were just eleven, I would not bother being here.” He ran the sharp point of his hook lightly across one of her breasts and tapped once firmly on her nipple which hardened as she winced. “You haven’t filled out as completely as your mother, but even an old man like Smee could tell you aren’t eleven. One more try – how old are you?” He smirked.  
“Thirteen.”  
Hook sighed dramatically and gave his best look of disappointment. “You are as inept a liar as your sweet mother is. I did have success in training her to not lie to me. My methods are not pretty, but they do get results.” He lifted her chin with his hand and tapped her pubic area three times in rapid succession with the point of his hook.  
“Fifteen!” Wide eyes and paper-white cheeks. Fear drove out the blushes.  
He smiled. “Ah, finally the truth. It has been my experience that the application of my hook to an individual’s genitals inevitably produces the marvelous forthcoming of honest answers. Yes, your mother told me already that you turned fifteen about a week ago. I just wanted to get the measure of you before I have the pleasure of you.” His eyes narrowed with displeasure, “If you had been honest to start, I would have at least considered providing you with some gentle preparation, but just as one lie gets punished, two lies positively begs for brutality to squelch that very bad habit.” He paused and looked at her with no hint of mockery. “I’ll give you some honest advice. I do not recommend that you ever lie to William. I have a hook, but he always has a straight razor and he’s cut many more women than I have. It’s not a habit I have, but for him," Hook paused, "it’s a real pleasure.” He stared in her eyes as he spoke, and she shivered, recalling William’s words about proof of her mother.  
The recollection prompted her to ask, “Where is Mother? Is she…?”  
“Your mother is alive. You will likely be able to see her for yourself, but not allowed to visit with her. If I keep her I can tell you she will be well-cared for. I enjoy her very much. You on the other hand are something to be sold, traded, used.” Hook spoke those last three words slowly and intensely as he held her gaze. “I sold you to William. He in turn will become an even wealthier man than he already is by letting great numbers of others have the use of your body. However, part of the initial sale agreement is that I get to use you – once, just once,” his eyes shone with anticipation, “but that’s all I want with you. Only your maidenhead.”  
Hook began to leisurely remove his clothing and in response she closed her eyes tightly. When he was finally naked, he approached her, and running his hand over her breasts told her to open her eyes and look at him. She shook her head, fear of his physical immediacy crushing out any ability to think. “You have no care for your remaining brother then?” Her eyes flew open. “I can have him brought in – you can watch him die slowly...” His voice trailed off.  
Her muffled calls of “No, don’t!,” followed Hook as he walked over and rapped on the door. It opened and William stepped inside with them, pulling the door shut. William leaned against a wall, a half-full brandy snifter in hand, where he had a good view of them both. She dared not look at him but fixed her gaze on what she could see of the tattoo on Hook’s left bicep, avoiding the sight of the most threatening part of him, which was not his hook. Hook continued addressing her. His tone was cheerful, “Perhaps you can go ahead and shut your eyes. It will be easy enough to have your brother brought in. William will make sure your brother watches and the little boy will get to see what a man does.” She kept her eyes open, fixed on Hook, ignoring William.  
Grinning, Hook ran his hand up the generous length of his thick erection, enjoying her trembling and tears as he advanced towards her. Again his voice was polite, gentlemanly with only the slightest hint of the raging lust he felt. “Wendy, my entire swollen, throbbing cock needs release. The hole that will satisfy it lies between your thighs. I shall tear you open to get inside you.” He licked his lower lip as she stared in fascinated horror, trying to avoid looking directly at what he gripped so firmly. His voice dropped to a growl, “This will hurt you very much and if you hadn’t lied, I would have given you some preparation, certainly not as much as a lover would have done for you, but at least some.” Hook felt between her legs, his fingers moving slowly as he assessed her. He smiled, "Dry. This is really going to hurt so much more than it needed to." He spoke other obscene descriptions of what he was going to do, how it would feel for each of them, how she would scream and burn and bleed, and that she should enjoy it – after all, he mockingly stated, her mother enjoyed his cock tremendously in her own cunny as it was longer and thicker than her father’s.  
With no preparation of her at all, he picked her up with her legs splayed open and took her hard against the unfinished wood wall, tearing and thrusting as he pounded his way into her. Her muffled cries were additionally quieted by his chest as he pressed against her, but they were not silenced altogether. He tried to hold off coming as long as he could, knowing this could only be done once – second times just didn’t have that thrill for him, but finally after a lengthy time, he moaned and collapsed against her, grateful that William had different desires for her. He sat down on the blankets when he had finished, leaning against the wall, breathing heavily. The curls framing his face were damp with sweat.  
Both men stared at her, her head bowed, her naked breasts damp with tears and sweat from herself and Hook. She made choking noises from beneath the gag with her sobs. Hook glanced over at his cousin, who, judging by the expression on his face and the hardness in his breeches, was enjoying it all most thoroughly.  
Hook stood up slowly, not surprised to find himself a bit light-headed as he did so. He rinsed the blood and cum from himself in the pan of water that had been portioned out for her to have for drinking when she was allowed to receive some, making sure she could see what he was doing, enjoying this final degradation of her. He did not speak until he was dressed, but then he cupped her face in his hand, shook her head to make her open her eyes again, and spoke softly. “Your mother will be so very pleased, even dare I say grateful, to hear all the details of what I just did.” She did not believe the evil lies he had murmured. Certainly, nothing he had said about her mother could be trusted to any degree. He had opened the door and left, receiving applause and cheers from William’s crew when he emerged. William remained behind and she noticed a small black leather case in his hand. Hook had not returned to her.

And then, not many days later, she heard her mother’s voice in the distance. She had been tended to while in the crate, fed and watered like an animal. It was always made clear to her that the lives of her brother and mother depended on her compliance. The old, portly pirate in the striped shirt who saw to her care since she had been put in the crate, was there two, sometimes three times a day. He always had a worried look in his eye. She looked pleadingly at him, but she was certainly not the first captive he had dealt with to do so. When he showed up, so she could eat and drink, she would softly ask questions; a few he answered which pleasantly surprised her, but most were met with silence as he peered over his glasses at her, pursing his lips together. The food was always good, not like her mother’s cooking, but tasty and satisfying. One morning after she finished breakfast, she knew something was different. Apologetically, a heavy gag was put on, and she was moved to another wall in the crate, facing forward this time, secured more rigidly than she had ever been, unable to turn her head or flex an inch, but able to peer out. As he pulled the door shut behind him he paused to tell her, “I said too much already in answering any of your questions and we could both end up paying for it. Forget about what I said. That’s my request and my best advice.”

At the sound of her mother’s voice she had strained her eyes trying to catch a glimpse of her. Mary came into view with the old pirate behind her armed with a pistol pointed at her back. She noted the metal in her mother’s nipples, the same as in her own, and wondered in sickening revulsion if her mother’s lower female parts had also been laced together with steel wire as had been done to her by William after he had stitched her torn maidenhead. She watched the scene unfold before her for a moment, as her mother stripped, then was secured and birched within her line of sight. She heard, her heart breaking, her eyes stinging with tears, mind reeling in disbelief, her mother’s speech and the travesty of a wedding. She needed to believe that it was all a game that her mother was playing to earn the release of her and her brother, but the ugly reality kept crashing through, crushing each delicate, hopeful thought. She kept her eyes closed when Hook and William began using her mother, but she could not escape the sound of flesh slapping against other flesh, grunting, obscenities and worst of all her mother’s moans and sobbing cries when Hook finished first and William took his time.

When her mother had left the ship with Hook, William’s crew finished preparations to set sail at midday. The old pirate did not come to tend her and she realized he was part of Hook’s crew so she would not see him again. Finally she felt the ship move, saw the island slip from view. Night fell early and she heard the door in the crate open. Light from his lantern came in with him and the door closed behind. She recognized the precise, measured cadence of his steps across the wooden floor. And into the darkness they sailed.


	21. Some Truths Are Best Not Told

It was early evening and a moderate breeze nudged the sails. It was too chilly for Mary to stay on deck any longer, although she enjoyed the evenings on the sea. It was only their second night since leaving Neverland. Hook was busy doing something with the crew, going over the maps or planning alternate routes in case of changes of weather or whatever it was that ships’ captains did, she supposed. They would be having dinner together in another hour, so she knew she would have time to follow up on a question that had insistently rolled about in her mind, despite trying to push it away. She found Smee in the Captain’s cabin, just as she had hoped. He was setting the table, polishing the silver, when she walked in. He nodded and smiled at her, “Missus Captain, good evening.”  
She was silent just a second too long. “Smee…”  
He peered over his spectacles. “I am guessing you have something you want to ask me, but for the Captain to not know about,” he said softly with an expression that made him look as if he had just stubbed his bare toe on something hard.  
Mary was disappointed in his initial response, but determined to try. “If you can’t answer, then that will be acceptable, but I ask that you hear my question and consider if you will provide me some information, rather than just declining my question entirely.”  
Smee nodded and silently prayed he could come up with a plausible lie if she asked about crates, children, or Hook’s previous women, making himself appear as calm as possible as he stared at her.  
“As you know Smee, I love James, but I also fear him. I keep thinking about that time that he gave me away to a random crew member in that ‘52-Card Wench’ game. He has been exceedingly kind since we married, but the thought that he might again do that particular thing, absolutely terrifies me more than anything he has done directly to me himself. I could bear his direct displeasure, but to hand me away, even for an hour to another would break my heart.” Her voice became quieter as she spoke and trailed off, as she stared at Smee.  
Smee kept a poker face. “Do you recall what card it was you picked that matched Sheepshag – er, I mean Noodler’s card, Missus Captain?”  
“Eight of spades, I am sure it was the eight of spades.”  
Smee nodded solemnly. “It was. It most certainly was, Missus Captain.” He walked over to one of Hook’s cabinets with many small drawers and pulled one open. He stared her in the eyes as he murmured to her, “You must never ever let him know what I am showing you – promise?” Mary nodded silently. “Missus Captain, what I’m going to show you was brought along from the Black Castle. These are the two decks that…”  
Hook stepped into the cabin and saw the tableau of the open drawer, the two decks of cards being held by Smee and the very guilty looks upon the faces of his wife and First Mate. He strode silently up to Smee, a wrathful look in his eye, then burst into laughter with pleasure at having frightened them so badly. “Alright Smee! Tell me you were at least going to hold out for a good trade of information from yourself, with something choice from Mary. I mean if you’re going to give up the secret of ‘52-Card Wench’ that should be worth something!”  
Smee had turned pale at Hook’s entrance, but recovered quickly. “I hadn’t thought of anything to ask her for Cap’n.”  
Hook sighed. “For a man who was a cutthroat cardshark in his younger years, you surprise me sometimes.” He rolled his eyes, “Go ahead and tell her, but think of something to ask her for too.” There was a smile in his voice.  
Smee turned to Mary. “For the game, I have this deck and he has that one.” He gestured with a pack in each hand. He set down the second deck and shuffled the first. As he shuffled his eyes lit up, “Missus Cap’n, I know what I want from you! Tell us brutes a story tomorrow night!” She beamed affectionately at the old man and replied she would do that. Hook rolled his eyes.  
“Now pick a number between two and twenty,” Smee said to her.  
“Six.”  
“Alright, so if you were the sixth brute in line, you would get the sixth card.” Smee shuffled once more.  
She nodded.  
“Pick the sixth card but don’t look at it yet.” He fanned them out and she counted to the sixth and pulled it from the deck. He set down the cards, picked up the other deck, fanned it and said, “Pick any ten cards from this deck.” She did so and noted Hook’s eyes were dancing in merriment. Hook spoke softly, “Now look at all eleven cards.” Her mouth dropped open in surprise and she looked at Smee in amazement, “But all of them are eights of spades! All of them!” Both men smiled.  
Hook stepped over and slid his arm around her waist. “Get the cards put away Smee, and go fix dinner. I’m hungry for a lot of things tonight.” He nuzzled Mary’s hair and whispered in her ear, “Now you have discovered my deepest, darkest secret. I love you my sweet Mary, and none other shall be allowed to have you.”

After dinner, Hook took Mary by the hand and led her to bed with a gleam in his eyes which she could not miss. He had been unusually gentle since they had left port and she was starting to hope that marriage was soothing his instincts at least somewhat. In his cabin, the tall pier glass stood positioned to reflect the bed. Mary had certainly noted he had made sure all of the multi-drawered cabinets from the Black Castle had been loaded aboard and arranged into the bedroom and sitting room. A quick count gave her an estimate of roughly a thousand drawers which she hoped might contain some things such as extra pairs of socks, cravats, cufflinks or other mundane, non-sexually oriented devices. Hook could tell by the way she frequently glanced at the cabinets that she was both curious and somewhat alarmed. He soothingly murmured in her ear, “Would you like to pull open a drawer at random, and I will use whatever it contains on you this evening?”  
Her eyes grew wide with anxiety. “No thank you, James. I would prefer to just have you.”  
He smiled, “There are many interesting and delightful things to be found in those drawers – things that pinch, things that poke or pull, things that scratch, things that tickle. A great variety of interesting items you have yet to experience.”  
She shyly looked up at him, “I just want you tonight.”  
“Alright Shrimp. It shall be as you wish tonight; no items from the cabinets. And since you are getting what you want, then I shall also have what I want.” He paused and smiled the sort of smile that made Mary shiver, for she had seen him smile that way so many times before. He removed his jacket and waistcoat, then his boots, as she stood and watched. He laid back on the bed, propped back on his elbows and eyeing her with frank lust, spoke again, “I do enjoy seeing you remove your clothing for me.”  
She blushed, still unaccustomed to being naked before him, especially as she had only had tea with dinner and was entirely sober. He enjoyed her shame and discomfort and she began removing her clothing at only a slightly more rapid pace than she had on the night he first captured her. Although Hook was much fonder of her than he had ever been of any woman and felt towards her the closest thing to love that he had ever known, his ingrained need was for some amount of humiliation and pain to truly stimulate him. He knew she did not know that and even if he were to try and explain she could never understand, so he would never bother to try.  
As she approached the bed, having removed her clothing, he stood and stripped off the rest of his clothes. He pressed her against him, shoving his hardness against her thigh as he ran his mouth over her neck. His hand cupped her bottom and his fingers moved between her cheeks. Her breathing quickened as it did when she was anxious. Hook smiled and softly said, “I haven’t had your fine, sweet arse since William used you. Tonight it is time to reclaim it.”  
Her whole body tensed and there was a noticeable pleading tremor in her voice as she spoke, “I am sure I haven’t healed up yet from what he did. It is all still very tender there.”  
In his most gentlemanly voice, but with a smirk on his face that she couldn’t see, he replied, “Would you prefer that I go slowly, or would you have this over as quickly as possible? Either way, I’ll use plenty of grease.” He paused and added with a growl in his voice, “Unless you choose to resist me. You do remember the promises you made and the vows you took don’t you?”  
She softly replied, “Your choice, Captain.”  
“Thank you,” was the sincere reply breathed in her ear. He was holding her and kissing her as a lover, the way she had once dreamed that George would, especially on their wedding night. He was clearly enjoying himself as she actively gave herself to him. He scooped her up onto the bed, on her belly. She arched her hips up, and felt him applying grease to her, rubbing his finger around in circles, before gently pressing his finger in the entrance and working the grease into her. He took his time with the process. She felt him get on the bed between her legs and the thickness of him now pressing into her. She began shaking in fear, and despite closing her eyes, she could tell he was staring at her reflection in the pier glass. He continued to press, gaining entry and slowly grinding himself into her. The intense stinging and burning she was expecting did not develop as Hook had used a soothing salve to prepare her with. She felt him pause, then slowly pull back, feeling his thickness rubbing between her cheeks. As he re-entered more rapidly, stroking again and again, she began shaking again with sudden deep spasms, arching and moaning, “Please yes, yes. Oh please, more yes, please.” Over and over her words came in a flood along with her wetness and she knew the juice dripping down her crack was not runaway grease; it was her own from what Hook was doing. A final deep shudder rippled her body. She looked up with half open eyes to see his reflection with his eyes squeezed shut, mouth open, nostrils flared, as he repeatedly ground deeply into her. Her sensations of the pleasure within her pelvis began to rebuild and rolled her into another overwhelming wave of pleasure. She heard him moan, felt his rhythm change into short tense strokes as he gasped, “Damn.” When he had finished with a soft groan, he rested on top of her, his face buried in the sweet scent of her neck and hair, kissing her lazily and touching her gently. 

Hook stood on the deck, out under the stars. Mary was sleeping peacefully in his cabin, exhausted, limp and dreaming only of Hook. The Jolly Roger was underway, bound for the West Coast of the States. He had plans to have a grand home built in San Francisco, not only for himself and Mary, but also Smee. He could continue being a pirate, a lot of goods and gold still traveled by ship around there, and business opportunities for opportunists such as he were plentiful on land as well.  
A frown creased Hook’s handsome face as he stood there. The occurrence of having conflict within him had been new. It never would have been an issue at all if he had not started having these feelings towards Mary which then started prompting new sorts of thoughts, thoughts of mercy. When he had headed over to William’s ship to see the girl, as he preferred to think of her, he had brought along a tiny flask, the contents of which he had carefully prepared himself a day in advance. Smee had come across him then, measuring, diluting, measuring and diluting some more. He was somewhat familiar with Hook’s ingredients from various apothecaries although he was not as knowledgeable as Hook in the nuances of ingredients’ interactions. The bottle of Hook’s own poison from his red eye was open and Smee for once was glad to see it as he watched Hook work. Smee had not asked any questions, simply because he realized what Hook was preparing and who it was for, and most importantly why. It would be a slow deliverance with that degree of dilution, taking three, perhaps even four months to cause her organs to painlessly fail. She would not live to arrive in Shanghai. She would be spared the worst of what belonging to William would inflict, yet William would never be the wiser for it, likely attributing her death to some exotic disease or perhaps, plain old pneumonia. Death presented itself as a merciful escape; mercy presented itself as murder. Hook knew he had promised Mary he would not kill any of her children. The idea of breaking that promise under the circumstances -- yes, circumstances that he had arranged for and profited magnificently from -- did not trouble him much. The girl would be freed permanently from what he had sold her into. It felt like the greatest kindness he had ever done for someone who had no way to repay him.  
Some unformed thought, nagged at the back of his mind, like a pesky fairy, as he had headed over to William’s ship for his singular visit to the girl – then, the thought came clear and sharp. If William was prevented from making his fortune with the darling daughter, then would that somehow change the weaving of the threads that Fate had spun for him as well? The possibility of it all coming undone was like a dagger of ice, stopping him in his tracks. He knew what he wanted, more than anything else. To endanger it was utter madness. He pulled out the small flask, unstoppered it with a flick of his thumb, bent down and poured the half ounce of fluid into the boards of the deck, watching the wood turn abnormally dark. Let William do as he chose, his own path was clear. And at that moment, he grinned to himself, his path was to that crate where virgin cunny awaited.  
Smee had been on deck after Hook returned from the Trojan. He had looked at his captain with sad eyes, needing to hear that the poisonous potion had been taken, that William would not possess her much longer, that she would be free of her body before she reached land. Hook looked at Smee, clapped him on the shoulder reassuringly, and spoke softly, “It’s all taken care of Smee. The job’s been done.”  
There are indeed some truths that are best not told. Hook knew that truth best of all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my story. I hope you've enjoyed it. I am starting to work on another fanfic that will be set in the Potterverse and I hope to have a chapter up by the end of May.


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